


Resident Evil Exodus: The Tale of Elza Walker (Part 2)

by RMandel



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 17:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 82,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12940152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RMandel/pseuds/RMandel
Summary: Among the many stories that have come to us from the events surrounding the Raccoon City T-virus Outbreak of late September, 1998, is the tale of one particular and remarkable woman.  She is a person who by all rights should be as familiar and as famous as many of the more storied characters, both male and female, and both good and bad, who emerged from that horrible catastrophe.  The reasons for that are many, and will not be dealt with here.  Nevertheless, her adventure is no less dramatic, no less involved, and no less inspiring, than those of her fellow survivors from that disaster.  She suffered more than most, endured more horror that most, and almost paid the ultimate price for daring to challenge that calamity ... yet in the end, she survived.  She not only emerged from that hell on earth but went on to become one of the biggest names behind the scenes in the modern struggle against global bioterrorism.  Even today, even though she is no longer the action-oriented and adventuresome young woman she was back then, she plays her part and carries her share of the burden with just as much drive and determination as her more famous counterparts.That woman is Dr. Elizabeth Ann "Elza" Walker.  THIS is her story.





	Resident Evil Exodus: The Tale of Elza Walker (Part 2)

RESIDENT EVIL: Exodus - The Tale of Elza Walker  
by Richard Mandel

 

based on characters and concepts created by Capcom®, Ltd.  
Archive of Our Own (AO3) edition  
(based on the v4.10 text)

 

1996 original scenario by Hideki Kamiya and Isao Oishi  
2008 revised scenario by Fumio Yamaguchi  
2014-15 reversioning by Richard Mandel

 

Exodus concept, selected characters and events, and this manuscript copyright © 2015 Richard Mandel. All other Resident Evil©® materials are the intellectual property of Capcom®, Ltd.

Use of Capcom's materials in this work of fiction is meant solely for the entertainment purposes of my fellow Resident Evil©® fans, and is not meant to be infringing in any way, express or implied, or in any form, shape, or fashion.

Please be advised that it is Capcom, not I, who holds the ultimate right with regards to all things produced under the Resident Evil©® title, and as such it is they who have the final say with regards to the availability, use, duplication, or distribution of this work.

Any relationship to any person or persons - living, dead, or undead - is solely coincidental.

\--------------------

STAGE TWO - THE SEWERS

Chapter 9 - Reconcile

Elza finished descending the long ladder and came out at the end of a well-lit tunnel. Immediately to her left was the tunnel's end. It framed a large rectangular opening that contained a number of irregularly shaped small grates. Through them, the contents of the tunnel's central channel flowed out and beyond to somewhere else. That central channel created two large and long walkways, wide enough for a grown man to walk abreast and with a little room to spare, on either side of the tunnel where she now found herself. The water in the channel looked clear, but there was a definite odor to it. It wasn't quite disgusting, but it wasn't pleasant, either. The smell reminded Elza of the mud at the bottom of a dried-up slough during especially hot summers – not quite the raunch of the slough itself when it was fresh and whole, yet sharp enough to evoke the memory of it. There was also the frequent patch of foul-smelling and sickly-looking greenish-yellow scum around the edges of the channel, whenever a notch or a nook in the stonework presented any opportunity for it to gather and bunch up. Elza hoped they could avoid going into or getting any of the water in the channel on them if at all possible.

She now looked up. There were a series of long single flourescent lamps regularly spaced along both sides of the curved tunnel roof, running in parallel to a cluster of pipes of various sizes that also followed the tunnel roof as far as the eye could see. One of the long bulbs was out, but the remainder still shone strong and provided plenty enough light to see in the tunnel. She looked down its length, and saw that it apparently took a sharp turn to the right at its far end. There was another shaft and ladder coming down at that turn. The shaft itself appeared to be just like the one she had come down – little more than a concrete lined-tube, with a rusty ladder bolted onto its one flat surface and also to the floor of the tunnel. She now looked over the walls themselves. Occasional brown patches of dead algae and other things that made her think of pond scum could be seen on their surfaces, and told of changing water levels within the tunnel. Fortunately, the highest of these patches only went halfway up the wall beside the raised walkways. "About waist high, if I were on the walkway and the water was up," she thought, as she looked up and down what parts of the tunnel she could see. If the water level had been high in here before - and it had been at least waist high, that was certain - then it hadn't been that high in a very long time.

Elza had felt Sherry's arms go around her legs as soon as she finished alighting from the ladder. One of her own arms went immediately around the little girl to comfort her. Linda stood a little bit in front of them, hands on her hips and her legs somewhat apart. She too was surveying the tunnel, it seemed. "Oh, nice," she finally said. It was more sarcasm than statement. "Just the kind of place I've always wanted to visit."

"At least we don't have any zombies chasing after us," Elza said.

"True," Linda said. She then turned to face Elza. There was an accusing note in her voice as she spoke. "That reminds me. Why in God's name did you set the building on fire?! Was that really necessary?"

"Yes, it was," Elza said evenly. "There wasn't time to explain above, but I will now if you'll let me."

Linda waved an arm disgustedly. "Oh, by all means, Miss Walker. Please do."

Elza regarded Linda for a moment, her eyes narrowing. Then she spoke in a calm voice with even tones. "Miss Merton, you work for Umbrella. Correct?"

"Yes, but what does that have—"

"And you were in that truck that brought those things to the police station."

"Yes, but I—"

"Quiet – I'm not finished." Now she gave Linda a cool stare. "Put yourself in the place of your bosses at Umbrella, those who sent you and that truck. What are you going to do once you find out that those hunters you sent to the RPD failed to do their job?"

"Well, I ..." and then Linda's voice faltered. All she could do was stare helplessly at Elza.

"That's right," Elza continued, her voice cold and hard. "If I were them, I would have had somebody following that truck, observing, making sure everything went down the way it was planned. And if they ever find out that it didn't, and the Chief's case files still exist, and that somebody left with them - not to mention the side issue of you, if that story you told is true, well ... they just might have to put whatever backup plans they have into action." She laughed mirthlessly. "Burning down the RPD was about the only way to throw a wrench in the works. They won't know what really happened for some time because the fire will have presumably destroyed the evidence – well, most of it, anyway." She laughed again, then turned to look at the wall. "Evidence. That's what it's all about, you know. You're just a minor bauble, a prize to snag along the way for whoever it is that's pissed off at you – provided that cock-and-bull story you told is true."

"It is true!" Linda shot back angrily. "Every word of it!"

"Then you just better hope that fire destroys any trace that we were ever up there," Elza snapped in reply, "and makes them thinks those case files are lost forever – because if they have the least suspicion otherwise, then they're gonna be on us like water on a duck's back, They probably won't stop until we're all dead, or they die trying." She turned back towards Linda as she pulled out her radio. "Next time, it won't be just hunters they send after us, either. Count on it."

Linda didn't answer. Instead, she gulped – and then stared down at the stones of the walkway beneath their feet. Elza glowered at her a bit more, then raised her radio and keyed her mike. "Kevin, this is Elza. We're in the Sewers. Where are you guys? I don't see you anywhere. Over?"

* * * * *

"Dis doan look right."

"Are you sure?" Rita had broken out the flashlight from her belt, and now shone it around the dark-colored walls of the tunnel. They and both the floor and ceiling were covered in a greenish algae-like growth that smelled rather rank. Puddles on the floor gave evidence of water having been in the tunnel fairly recently. Judging from how the tunnel was covered from floor to ceiling with that foul-smelling green slime, it apparently became completely full of water at times. That was not good, Rita decided – and it bothered her even more that John did not seen to recognize where they were. He was supposed to know the Sewers, but if he was lost .... Her thoughts were interrupted by the steady sound of footsteps on ladder rungs above and behind them, and she flashed her light upward. Kevin's feet and legs had just appeared at the bottom of the ladder shaft, and he joined them in the tunnel seconds later.

"I dunno," John replied, even as Kevin's feet hit the floor. Within a split second the policeman had his own flashlight out and was shining it around the tunnel. "Dis is wrong," John continued. "Dis ain't where dis was s'pposed to cum out."

Kevin's brow wrinkled. He turned to John, shining his light on the burly man. "Excuse me, but would you mind saying that again?"

"He said he doesn't know where we are," Rita hastily cut in. "This tunnel isn't the sewer tunnel he thought the manhole connected to up there."

Kevin's eyes narrowed. "And just where were we supposed to turn up?" he growled.

John scratched the back of his neck.. "Well ... I know dat whear da girls are gonna cum out is in a big, long L-shaped tunnel dat runs both under the po-lice station an' da nearby streets. Dere are two other ladders in dat L-tunnel, but I wuz told only one uv dem comes out above. Da other one at da far end goes to one of da colle'shun tanks for da North Canal sistern." He turned around and walked back to the ladder. "Now Ise only been threw de one dat connects to de Parking Garage, back when we wuz workin' on dat part of da sistern, so I ain't never been up the udder one. But I wuz told den dat it come out by da RPD, and I knew 'bout this'n from Roy, so it sounded rite." He put his back to the ladder and furrowed his brow, concentrating his thoughts. "Now if'n dis had cum out 'chere, where it should of ..." and with that he lifted his left arm, index finger raised and pointed, "... then da manhole to da Parking Garage and the Service Bay should be rite ... dere!" John had begun to swing his arm even as he spoke. He stopped even as he stopped talking. John's arm now pointed at a diagonal at one of the nearby walls.

Kevin snorted. He looked at John for a bit, without saying a word, then his brow furrowed. "Tell me, John. Did you ever graduate high school?"

"Naw," John said. "I quits to go ta work an' git a real job, 'cuz high school doan pay shit. Why?"

"Because if you'd have stayed in," Kevin said, "then maybe you might have learned a little math, and then you might be able to judge distances and directions more accurately." He looked at Rita, making sure he had her attention, then pointed up. "Where's the nearest manhole on the sidewalk next to the street above?"

"Uhhhhh ...." John put his back to the ladder and reoriented himself again, then pointed in a slightly different direction. "Ovah dere."

"No, it's not," Kevin said. He pointed a little bit farther up from where John was pointing. "It's right there. I know that because I spotted it from the roof of the RPD as we were coming down. That's probably not even the right one, either – leastways not the one for which you were aiming." He smiled grimly, allowing himself a bit of a country accent at first as he talked, then settling back down into his normal tones. "I think you didn't figger yo' tunnel lengths right, John. Too long or too short, I dunno – but we ain't in yo' L-tunnel. We're in one running rite beside it, I'm guessin'. I'm also certain that we're another full level down from where we're supposed to be, too, judging from how far we came down that ladder."

John looked like somebody had pole-axed him. "Awwww, shit," he muttered. After a long minute, he managed to talk. "If you knowed all dat, boss, then were is we?"

"Fuck if I know," Kevin said. "You're the expert on the Sewers, not me. I just remember the way things looked above ground, before we came down here." He gave the poor man an evil grin. "Tell you what, John. Go find me a pickaxe and we'll see whether or not you're right about where the girls are."

"Kevin!" Rita's voice was sharp, loud, and it went across Kevin like a whiplash. "Let him be! If it weren't for him, we'd probably all be dead right now."

"It's all right, Miss Rita," John said morosely, looking down at the slimy stone floor. "Ise screwed up, an' I nose it." Kevin stared at him for a moment, then back at Rita, then folded his arms and stood aside.

Rita walked up to John and put a hand on the burly man's shoulder. He looked as if he were about to cry. "It's all right, John," she said. "You tried. I know you tried. Kevin knows it, too," and with that shot the young man a dirty look, "even if he won't admit it. But you know what? I've got an idea. Why don't we call Elza? She and the others should be down in that L-tunnel of yours by now. Maybe she can help us figure out where we are."

Kevin started to say something, but at that moment Rita snapped her head back and gave him such a stare that he checked himself. Instead, he reshaped what he was about to say before he said it, so he wouldn't sound so sarcastic. "How can they help us?" he said, in as level a tone as he could manage.

John shrugged. "Dey gots the Water Key. Leastways dey should, if dey did lak I told 'em to. Dere's two doors in da L-tunnel wid 'em – a single door an' sum double doors. Both are locked, but both'll unlock if you use dat Water Key. Now if dey take da one on the lef', dey'll find demselves in de Break Room fer dat part of da Sewers. Dat also happens ta have a compootah hooked in to da central control sistern for da Sewers. Now you cain't do anything on it - you gotta go to da main Control Room for dat - but da soopervisers, dey use it to pull up stuff and check da sistern whenever dey is on break, or takin' a lunch, an' such." He smiled weakly at the two police officers. "I figger the girls kin pull up da sistern map fer us. If dey can do dat, then mebbe dey can figger out jes' where we are, and den figger out da best way of us gettin' to 'um."

"But won't that computer be password protected?" Rita asked.

John let out a chuckle. It was the first time he had smiled since he had realized he had gotten them lost. "It is, but all of us who werk in da sistern knows how t' use it. You see, the chief sooperviser for the Sewers is named Ed Norton. You know – lak that guy who worked in da New York sewers on dat TV show a long time ago?" John paused, but all he got from Kevin and Rita were blank stares. "You knows!" he insisted. "The Honeymooners!?"

"I've heard of it," Kevin said, giving the man a half-smile. "It was a bit before my time."

John shook his head. "Man, oh man ... anyway, on da show, the guy's best friend was a bus driver name uv Ralph Kramden, an' his wife was a whiny-ass shroo named Alice. So, to gits into da compootah in da Sewers Break Room, you type in RalphK as da user name an' Alice as da password."

"Hmmmmmm," Rita said. "That's neat. A mnemonic memory trick, and tied to something related to the Sewers to make it easy to remember."

"Huh?" John said. He looked totally bewildered by Rita's observation.

"Never mind," Kevin cut in. "We've got nothing to lose, so let's—"

At that moment, all three of their radios began chirping with call tones. Kevin was the first to get his out, followed quickly by Rita. John took a little longer, and almost dropped it as he fumbled for it in his back pocket in the dark. "Kevin, this is Elza," came Elza's voice over the speaker. "We're in the Sewers. Where are you guys? I don't see you anywhere. Over?"

"Elza, this is Kevin," the young RPD officer said rather laconically. "We're down in the Sewers, too, only we didn't take that left turn at Albuquerque like we should have."

"Does that mean what I think it means? It's been I while since I watched Bugs Bunny."

"Yep." Kevin drew out the word deliberately, thinking of certain television heroic characters in similar situations. He let his imitation of a country accent drift back into his voice. "We is lost, Miss Walker, and our guide is lost, too. Seems we didn't come out down here where he thought we would."

"Oh, swell. Any idea where you are?"

"I know where we are in relation to the street above, but that's about it. If we start moving, I'm going to lose my bearings fairly quickly. That's where you come in, Elza. We need your help."

"What is it I need to do?"

"John says you need to use that Water Key set to unlock the first single door you come to when you make the turn in the tunnel that's ahead of you. He says it's the break room for the sewer workers, and inside is a sewer system computer you can use to access the system maps. From there, since both of us know where you are, we can figure out were we are – and we can also use that system map to find a way to reach you, or vice versa."

"Got it. Anything else?"

"Naw ... that'll do for now."

"Okay. I'll call you when we get inside. One more thing, though. There's another ladder shaft in front of us. Any idea where it goes?"

"Straight up back to street level," Kevin replied straight-faced, "and right into the middle of that horde of zombies up there."

"Oh. Figures." There was a brief pause, and then Elza spoke again. "I'll call when I'm that break room. Elza, out."

"Kevin, out." Kevin lowered his radio, then clipped it back on his uniform belt. Rita did likewise, while John again fumbled with his back pocket in the mostly dark tunnel. "All right then, guys," Kevin said with a sigh. "Looks like we're going to have to wait right here for a bit. I don't suppose anybody brought some cards with them, did they?"

"Mis-ter Ryman," Rita said, very coldly and very evenly. Kevin looked at her with surprise, as did John. Neither of them had ever heard Rita speak like that before. She sounded hopping mad, and she looked it, too. "You and I need to have a little talk. Now. John, you wait right here. Kevin – with me." With that she turned and began walking down the tunnel, her flashlight bobbing as she went.

Kevin stared after her for a moment, then looked at John. He looked just as confused as did Kevin, and could but shrug his shoulders. "Wait right here," Kevin said, handing John his flashlight. "I'll be right back – I think." And with that he turned and followed after Rita.

The trio had followed the inside ledge of the first long leg of the L-tunnel to its end. They didn't even give the second ladder shaft so much as a second glance. Elza motioned for the others to stay back, then with autopistol in hand she whipped around the corner and immediately assumed a firing crouch. Only the unnatural glare of fluorescent and the sound of running water greeted her.

This new leg of the tunnel appeared almost exactly like the other - central run-off channel, overhead pipes, light fixtures, and brown growth-covered walls and all – yet there were some significant differences. It ended in a solid wall some ways down, with a small, man-sized central barred grate from where the water that filled its central channel was flowing. The sound came from the mini-waterfall it made as it cascaded out of the shoulder-high grate and into the receiving channel below. To the left and also at the end of this leg of the L-tunnel was another ladder shaft. It ran up and along one side of a large hole in the tunnel's roof, up which the ceiling pipes also turned and trunked upward. Both pipes and ladder shaft disappeared into darkness. Elza guessed that it was probably an old storm drain sealed off long ago – leastways she hoped it had been sealed off, judging from how old and dead the crud on the walls looked. Between the turn and that far wall with the grate and old storm drain high above were two doors, one on each side of the tunnel leg. Both were about halfway between the turn and the far wall. The one on their side of the tunnel, which they could easily reach by the raised walkway where they had been moving, consisted of a pair of large metal double doors. Both were quited rusted and had obvious signs of having been underwater long ago – up to the water lines on the walls, that is. There was a large mechanism in their center that she took to be the lock, but the viewing angle was bad - side-on, in fact - and she couldn't make out any details. Besides, it would have to hold for now. It was the single door across the channel, almost directly across from the double doors, that caught and held her eye. It matched the description of the one John had told Kevin about, and he in turn had relayed to her. That was their next and immediate goal. She took another long look at all points in this new leg of the tunnel she could see, then lifted one of her hands and signaled the others. "Looks clear," she said, "and I think I've just found that door Kevin was talking about."

"Elza," Sherry half-whispered, pointing to the channel.

Elza's eyes followed Sherry's finger. Floating in the run-off channel, the tops of their backs barely breaking the surface of the sewer water inside, were two bodies. They were dressed in the plain and drab coveralls of city sewer workers. They were both obviously dead, and it was also rather obvious that they had been floating in the channel for quite a while. The only reason they hadn't been washed on down by the current was that their clothes had snagged on various projections and objects either sticking out from the channel edges of the walkways or on the bottom of the channel itself. Elza felt her own breath suck in as she felt Sherry clamp around her legs again, and Linda gagged visibly. "Oh, God, I didn't need to see that," she muttered, once she was done choking.

"Get used to it," Elza replied. "You're going to be seeing a lot more like that, and probably worse, before we can escape Raccoon City. Besides, we've got to get right up next to them if we're going to the Break Room." She pointed at the single door on the left side of the L-tunnel. The two bodies in the channel lay on a direct line between the Break Room's single door on one side, and the still-as-yet unknown double doors on the other.

"Miss Elza," Sherry said, "we gotta cross the water if we're going to get to that door."

Elza nodded. "That's right, Sherry."

The little girl looked up at her with pleading eyes. "I don't want those things to get me."

Elza put her free hand on Sherry's shoulder. "They won't, Sherry." She managed a smile. "Think you can jump?"

The little girl looked at the channel. "Oh, that's easy."

"Well, then, why don't I cross first and you jump over to me?"

"Well ... okay. But you go first."

Somehow Elza found it within her to laugh. "That I will," she said. She holstered her autopistol, measured the distance with her eyes, then walked back a bit on the walkway around the turn from where they had just come. She was only out of sight for a couple of seconds, though. Suddenly there was the sound of motocross boots hitting hard on concrete, and a second later a running Elza came back into view. She jumped as soon as they saw her, easily clearing the channel at the turn, then caught herself as her momentum tried to carry her past the other walkway and into the wall behind it. She took a deep breath, then straightened up and turned to face them. "See how easy it is?" she said, grinning broadly. "Sherry, it's your turn."

Sherry copied Elza's actions move for move. Using the walkway in the other leg of the L-tunnel to gather her speed, she too ran and jumped across the channel. Elza caught her just as she came across. The little girl let out a big breath, then smiled at Elza. "Like you said, Miss Elza. That was easy."

The two of them looked across the channel at Linda. "Guess it's my turn, now," she grumbled, "but this coverall I'm wearing doesn't exactly allow for running."

"Just do the best you can," Elza encouraged. "I'll do my best to catch you if you slip. Sherry?" The little girl let go and took a couple of steps to one side, as Elza assumed her ready position once again. "Ready whenever you are," she said, looking at Linda.

Linda furrowed her brow at Elza, then without another word trotted around the corner into the other leg of the L-tunnel. Seconds later she came hurrying back, and she too vaulted the narrow channel. She grabbed at the waiting Elza as soon as she landed, and it was all Elza could do to maintain her balance. "Hey, let up!" Elza exclaimed. "You made it, okay?!"

Linda stood there for a moment, still grasping the irritated-looking Elza, then composed herself and let go. "Yes, ma'am," she said, in as even a tone as she could. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Elza said. She stood aside as Linda brushed past her to join Sherry on the other side of the door, some distance away from the two bodies floating in the center channel. The other woman was trying to act like all of this was perfectly natural to her, and it so obviously wasn't. Elza shook her head, then fished in her pocket and got out the Water Key. She walked up to the break room door, right beside the bodies in the channel, pistol in one hand and Water Key in the other, stuck the key in the lock, and turned it. It clicked, the lock mechanism moving with it, and the door opened. By that time Elza already had her gun up and aimed at the door, but nothing came through to jump her. She nudged it all the way open and swept the room beyond. Still nothing. She risked a couple of steps inside, now standing in the doorway with the door fully open, so nothing could hide behind it, and swept the room again with both her eyes and her pistol. After what seemed like a long while, she finally lowered the weapon and looked at the others. "Looks like it's all clear. C'mon."

Without waiting to reply both Linda and Sherry trotted up the walkway and joined Elza. The three of them went into the Break Room and closed the door behind them. All was silent in the L-tunnel again, save for the sound of running water ... and the stirring of some of the fingers on a hand long submerged beneath its deceptive surface.

* * * * *

Rita had stopped at the far end of the tunnel where they were now located. It had ended by connecting to another tunnel that ran crossways to it, with long branches going off in either direction. Although narrow where they were now, both ends seemed to open up within a dozen or two feet beyond where they were now located. They were lighted, too - from somewhere, apparently - but the light was too weak to make out much in the way of details. To their left on the opposite wall only a few feet away was a large grate that apparently completely covered the entrance to yet another tunnel. There was a door set in the grate, close to the left side of the grate and adjoining the nearby wall, and right beside on the wall was a rather familiar-looking card reader. That was all Kevin managed to take in, because almost as soon as he poked his head out for a look Rita had grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him back inside again. That grip was an angry grip, and it had strength behind it. Having seen Rita in action earlier with John, Kevin allowed himself to be pulled back in to face Rita. She was now glaring at him with a look that could have felled a bull elephant at half a mile.

"Kevin ... Jackson ... RYMAN!!!" Her voice was raised but she did not yell. Instead, she spat out each part of his name with a furious anger that surprised him. "We need to get something straightened out right now, young man! You need to lay off of John. You've been picking on him almost from the start, and you need to knock it off el pronto, mister!"

Kevin was certain Rita had her reasons for behaving the way she was doing right now, but he wasn't about to take being talked down to like a little boy without getting in a few shots of his own in response. "The man is an idiot, Rita – a work-a-day lout who's only alive because--"

"You think we'd still be alive right now if he hadn't joined up with us?!" Rita's voice went up a notch.

"We wouldn't have hooked up at all if he hadn't run off half-cocked the way he did!" Now Kevin's voice went up a notch, too. "Tell me one thing he's done useful since Elza hauled his sorry ass out of the drunk tank—"

"He got us the hell out of the RPD!" Rita shot back.

"And right where we are now!" Kevin retorted, "lost as a goose and not knowing where the fuck we are!"

"And if we hadn't listened to him, we'd both be dead back up at the RPD!" Rita responded, her voice still raised. "So lay off of John, you hear?! Let him be!!"

Kevin's voice dropped back to a normal tone as his eyes narrowed. "Give me one good reason why," he said.

Just then they heard John back at the ladder end of the tunnel. He had made a point of clearing his throat in an overly loud manner. "Uhhh, s'cuse me, folks," he said politely. "Ah kin hear ever word you two are sayin' up dere."

"Sorry, John," Rita called back down the tunnel. "We'll be done in a minute." She turned back to glower at Kevin, then dropped her voice all the way down to a half-whisper. "Kevin, John's not the sharpest tool in the shed and never will be, and even he will tell you that. He's not smart because he dropped out of high school, and do you want to know why? It was to go to work so that his younger brother Robert would have enough money to go to trade school and get the apprenticeship with a master gunsmith that he always wanted. John has his limits, yes, and he even has his problems, but he means well – and he has helped us, whether you admit it or not." Kevin snorted, and was about to say something, but Rita shot a finger up in his face. "Just a minute, Mister Ryman, I'm not done with you yet." She continued to glare at him. "You're our leader. You're supposed to lift us up, not tear us down. John's the kind of person who needs lifting up because of who and what he is. Right now you've got him feeling like the worst thing that's ever happened to us, and that's bad, Kevin – very bad." Now she leaned in close to Kevin's face. "Because if Elza can't help us, then he's our only way out of here – unless you wanna go back the way we came. " She now leaned back, stepping back as well, so that the two of them stood facing each other across the width of the tunnel entrance. She was almost perfectly framed in the tunnel mouth, right on the edge of the connecting tunnel behind her. "You're our leader, Kevin," Rita said. "Now be a leader, and lead us. Don't be an asshole. You're better than that. I know you are." She gave him a faint smile. "Okay?"

Kevin stared at Rita for a long time, digesting what he had heard. He was still digesting it when he half-noticed a shadow out of the corner of his left eye, moving on the opposite wall of the other tunnel, up that side and straight towards Rita. He instantly whipped out his Kimber and shot at it. Both tunnels echoed with the sound of a .45 ACP being fired as something gave a half-screech, half-squeal and fell onto the floor of the other tunnel, flopping about wildly. Rita had ducked and dived back up their tunnel as soon as she saw Kevin go for his pistol – and now she too had her shotgun up, standing beside Kevin and backing him up against whatever it was he had spotted.

"Flashlight," Kevin barked, still holding his gun at the ready.

Rita let go of the pump and grabbed at her gunbelt. In an instant she had let go of the pump of her shotgun and had her flashlight in hand, bracing her shotgun with its wrist. The light shone into the other tunnel and on a large, greyish-purple flabby looking thing with extremely long legs. It must have been the movement of those legs as the thing closed that had caught Kevin's attention, Rita thought to herself. Apparently it hadn't made a sound – leastways one either she or Kevin could have heard.

"Spider," Kevin said, reaching back for the flashlight. Rita handed it to him and grabbed the pump on her shotgun again, even as he moved forward carefully to examine his target. He shone the light around the body. "I count eight legs. Damn big spider, too. This thing is as big as a Great Dane."

RIta was up beside Kevin now, shotgun leveled at the dead giant spider. "You think there's more of 'em?"

"Probably," Kevin said.

"Whut da hell?" John exclaimed as he came running up. He stopped when he saw the spider. "Sheeyyyaaattt!" he exclaimed, then shuddered. "Ise hates spidahs."

Rita saw Kevin start to say something, then bite his lip almost instantly, forcing it back down. "Good," she thought to herself. "At least he was listening before that thing came along and ruined the rest of my leadership lecture. I'm glad he saw it, though. I sure as hell didn't. I was too busy chewing him out over John." These thoughts she kept to herself. "What now?" she said.

"Let's shine our lights out there, but stay inside here," Kevin said, motioning to John. He blinked for a moment, then gulped and moved forward with them, the beam of Kevin's flashlight now paralleling that of Rita's. Kevin grunted, then turned to Rita. "And carefully, too." He gave her a wry smile. "No more surprises, eh?"

Rita smiled and nodded in reply. "Right." She stuck the shotgun back into the slings of her backpack, pulled her own pistol, then motioned to John. The big man grinned weakly, and then handed her Kevin's flashlight. After that he simply stood there, one hand on the sling of his hunting rifle, fidgeting nervously. Kevin shook his head but said nothing.

Together, the two RPD officers shone their flashlights around either end of the other tunnel as far as they could reach without leaving their cover. After a while, John moved up behind them – craning his neck as he too followed the slender beams of light, straining his eyes to see as best he could. He now gripped his hunting rifle with both hands, one finger on the trigger.

After a while, Kevin lowered his flashlight. "Nothing on this end," he said. "What about you?"

"Me, neither," Rita said, also lowering hers. "That doesn't mean there aren't more."

"Nope," Kevin said. "I'm guessing they can probably fold themselves up to get into smaller spaces, just like the normal little spiders we all know and love." John grimaced at that last remark, but said nothing. Kevin continued. "For all we know it might have been hiding in an overhead vent, waiting to jump us, and something made it get tired of waiting." He stopped and looked at Rita, the hint of a smile on his face, but held his tongue.

Rita took Kevin's meaning but said nothing to him in reply. Instead, she turned to John. "Have you heard of anything like this?" she asked.

"Ah ain't heard nuthin' bout no giant spidahs," John said, and he shuddered again. "If I'd-a known dey had'em down here, I'd-a never hired on part time. Ise hates spidahs. Da only thing I heard 'bout were the 'gators."

"Alligators?" Kevin said incredulously. He looked at Rita, but to his surprise she was nodding thoughtfully. Kevin decided to risk another tongue-lashing. "As in that bad movie from a while back?"

"Uh-huh," John said, with both a look and a tone in his voice that suggested complete honesty. "Ya know, boss, dey really had dis problem with 'gators in da New York City sewer sistern back in da Thirties, or so's Ed told me, an' dere's been stories like dose in udder cities ever since." He suddenly snickered. "It's not from folks flushin' 'em down dere cans, either. Most of da time, whenevah it really happens, dey follows da water upstream from whatevah lake, river, or crick where dey normally hangs out, den cum in da back way. Anyway, dere's all kinds of stories been swapped 'round by some of the reg'lar sewer workers about 'gators in da deep tunnels an' such. A couple of 'em even swears t' have seen a really big 'un, but dey couldn't get anyone ta believe 'em."

Kevin digested all of this thoughtfully. He now turned to Rita. "What do you think?" he asked.

"Could be," she said. "Believe it or not, I've actually heard some of those same stories from other people, and I could show you a police report or two from a few years back if we were still at the new station. You know how it is, though – you find somebody who swears they actually saw something, but he or she can never prove it." She turned to look out of the tunnel mouth. "We had 'gators in Mississippi, you know. Nasty things – and fast, too. It's amazing just how fast they move whenever it's time to pounce on dinner." She turned her head and looked back at both men. "I'd hate to think any of those stories were true."

"Yeah," John agreed. "And dis here's an old part of da Sewers, too, judgin' from da slime on da walls – one where folks ain't been in a while. Dat means da chances dey is down here with us are purdy good."

"Thank you, John," Rita said dryly, but smiled at the big man as she did so. "You sure know how to make a girl feel safe around here."

"Well, after what just happened," Kevin said, nodding at the dead giant spider, "I don't think we can take anything for granted. I'm not saying I believe it .... It's just that I'm more prepared now than I was a few minutes ago to have an open mind." He was going to say more, but at that moment their radios chirped. All three of them had them up to their ears and the mikes ready to key within seconds. "Kevin, this is Elza. We're in the Break Room now, over."

"Elza, this is Kevin," Kevin answered. "We read you, over."

"I've accessed the computer in here just as John instructed," Elza said. "I've got the map of the Sewers pulled up right now to where we are. It looks like you were right, Kevin. There's a deeper side tunnel not far from here that connects to the manhole right outside the RPD building. I'm guessing that's where you are now. Did your tunnel come out in a T-junction?"

"Yes, it did," Kevin said.

"Well, according to this map, there's an area to your right where water from the higher levels comes in, and then it runs off down through the 'T' corridor through a grated entrance on the other end. There should also be two more doors in there with you – one directly ahead, one that also opens off into a smaller grated run-off corridor, and then a door down at the other end where the main run-off grate is located."

"Well, that one door you were talking about is like you said – almost right in front of us," Kevin replied. "We haven't had a chance to explore the other ends of the tunnel yet." A motion from Rita caught his attention, and he saw her mouth the words card lock. "Oh, yeah," he added. "The door right in front of us has a card reader lock on it. Does the system say anything about the kind of card needed to open it?"

"Just a minute." The radio went silent. All three could well imagine Elza and her two companions hunched over the computer in the Sewers Break rroom, trying to pull up the required data. Then their radios crackled, and Elza's voice sounded again. "Okay, got it," she said. "The system supervisor normally carries that card with him, but there are two spares. One is kept secured back in the RPD—"

"Figgers," John said. Neither Kevin nor Rita paid him any attention.

"—although the screen legend doesn't say where," Elza's voice continued, "and the other is kept in a storage room not far from where you are. Just go through the door at the other end of that 'T' where you're at now and keep going, without turning aside for any side doors or anything else, and you'll eventually find it. It's the last side storage room you come to before you can't go any farther, because the tunnel at the next right-hand turn is sealed with a grate that has no inset door. Oh, and one more thing. Looks like there's another of those small storage rooms right next to you, right before the end of the 'T' where you're at. Might be a good place to camp out, in case you guys are down there a while."

"I'll take it under advisement," Kevin replied. "Thanks, Elza. Good job. Now let me guess – the door in front of us with the card reader lock is the one we gotta take to eventually hook back up with you, right?"

"Lemme check ... uh-huh, you called it."

"Somehow I just knew it would be," Kevin said dryly.

"It runs on a bit and takes some odd turns here and there," Elza continued, "and you gotta climb up at least one ladder – but as long as you stick to the main tunnel after that ladder and not take any of the side ones, then it comes out in one of the main storm drains. That's where we can meet, because our route from here comes out at the same storm drain. It's a tunnel that the map calls the North Canal – and it looks like it's only a couple of rooms from us."

"I got an idea," Rita said, as she joined the radio conversation. "Pardon me for barging in, Kevin, but how about the first one of us who reaches that storm drain call to let the others know, and then wait for them – assuming the zombies, giant spiders, and John's alligators let us?"

"Giant spiders and alligators?" Elza sounded incredulous. "You guys haven't been sniffing gas from a bad leak down there somewhere, have you?"

"I just shot a spider the size of the largest dog you can think of," Kevin said, "and both John and Rita have heard reports of alligators that might have moved into the Sewers tunnels by coming up the drains. And where there's one giant spider, there's bound to be more."

"Shit," Elza replied, and they could hear her disgust even over the radio's distortions. "That's just what we need. Let's add even more monsters to the mix, okay?"

"Somehow I think you can handle them," Kevin replied. "Kevin, out."

"You take care, hon," Rita quickly added. "Rita, out."

"Elza, out."

* * * * *

"Giant spiders?"

Both Sherry and Linda's eyes had the look of saucers. If it hadn't been for the situation all of them were in, Elza would have probably broken out laughing at the sight. As it was, though, it was real ... all too real.

The three of them were now seated around the center tables in the Sewers Break Room. Elza had decided that they needed a bit of a rest before they pressed on, and this was an idea location for doing so. There was only one way in or out, and that was the very stout, thick metal door to the L-tunnel beyond. It was watertight, Elza had noted upon closer examination, and that explained why both it and the walls were stoutly built. No doubt it had been built that way for the times that the L-tunnel was flooded. On their side of that door was a comfortable little stone-and-concrete lined room, and it had been furnished in a manner typical of a break room you might expect to find in such a location. Personal storage lockers were against the only wall that wasn't broken up either by pipes or heavy machinery, and various pictures and bulletin boards decorated what few open spaces there were on the other three. The computer John had told them about was wedged in between three large closed electrical cabinets against the far wall, two on the left and one on the right, with various-sized conduits and cables running in and out of them. Two large folding tables set together on their long sides dominated the center of the room. There was a television up on a stand high in one corner of the room, where those sitting around the center tables could see it, but the sound was down and the picture showed only static when turned on. Folding chairs around the center tables and stacked up against one wall and a wheeled chair in front of the table by the computer completed the picture. All in all, it had the sort of natural ad hoc look that you would see in the break room of any industrial or electrical plant or mill, save that this one was some ways underground. The lack of windows definitely hurt what was otherwise supposed to be a place of rest, giving it a bit of an oppressive air if one thought about it – which Elza tried not to do. There were more important things to think about than break room atmospherics ... like those giant spiders Kevin had reported, for example.

"That's what the man said," Elza answered. "Giant spiders." She noticed Linda still looked startled, and shot her a somewhat irritated look. "What?"

"What do you mean?" Now Linda looked confused.

"What are you looking so bug-eyed about?" Elza said. "They're just spiders, and they can obviously be killed. We'll deal with them when we get to them."

"But you just can't step on these," Linda shot back. "I mean, if—"

"If nothing," Elza snapped. "It's a spider. A damn big one, yes, but still a spider."

Linda still wouldn't back down. "Do you realize just how much venom a spider that big can pump in you if it bites you?"

"Do you know how much venom a rattlesnake injects into you when it bites you?" Elza half-snarled. "I got bit by a rattlesnake once, and I survived."

"Somehow I thought you would," Linda muttered.

"Miss Elza, Miss Linda?" Sherry said. The fact that she even spoke up caused the two to break off and look at her. The little girl had a troubled look on her face.

Elza tried to calm herself down, and spoke as sweetly as she could. "What is it, hon?"

"I gotta go."

The two women looked at each other. After a moment, Linda sighed. "I wish she hadn't said that. Now I've got to go, too."

"What?!" Elza exclaimed incredulously. Linda turned to stare at her. Elza seemed so frustrated that she would have foamed at the mouth if she could have. Her words came out in broken sentence fragments. "But you—! I mean—! Didn't you just—!!" She continued to splutter helplessly while Linda continued to stare at her with that doe-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look that Elza was fast growing to hate. If she had dared, she would have leaped forward and throttled Linda then and there. After a while, though, she managed to calm down. "All right," she muttered. "I went back at the RPD, so I'm good for a while yet." Elza pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. She suddenly gave Linda a not-so-pleasant grin. "And folks, it doesn't look like there's any restrooms around here, so you're gonna have to do things the old fashioned way – like we do out in the sticks." Now Elza's grin became positively wicked. "Right outside our door is what could pass for the biggest toilet that you've ever used, and there's at least one roll of paper left in my supplies." She walked over to the table where they had set some of them, rummaged around, then fished it up. "Here you go. I hope you know how to squat."

"That's disgusting," Linda said, as she stood up and walked over to Elza.

"What's so disgusting about it?" Elza said, as she handed Linda the roll. "Done it myself many a time out in the woods, and without paper, either."

"Please – enough." Linda said, taking the roll. "Miss Walker ... oh, never mind. Come on, Sherry."

The little girl now stood up and joined Linda, who was already heading for the Break Room door. "It's okay," she said with a conspiratorial air, as she walked by Elza. "I had to do the same before you found me." She then smiled broadly. "We'll come right back when we're done."

"Fine," Elza said. "I think I'll ramble around in here – rummage around in those lockers over there, and see if I can find anything useful. Don't take too long, okay?"

"I've no intention to," Linda said, pausing to look back at Elza with her hand on the door handle. "The less time it takes to do it like this, the better."

With that, both the older woman and little girl went through the door and into the L-tunnel. It closed behind them, with its latch making and audible click! Elza stared after them for a moment, then shook her head and laughed. "City girl," she muttered, as she began walking toward the row of lockers near the door.

* * * * *

The storage room had been there, exactly as Elza had said it would be. What she hadn't told them was the fact that they had to leave the T-corridor via a short turning staircase to get to it. The door had been about halfway down an indentation in the side wall to their left. Filling the full length of this indentation was a raised platform or ledge running all the way back to the end of the T-corridor. At that end was both a large grate for that end of the tunnel, down on the tunnel floor proper, and another door at the end of the ledge set to one side of the large grate. Both the door and the grate had been there exactly as Elza had described – and the tunnel beyond them must be the one running down to the lower levels of the Sewers.

The storage room to where Elza had directed them had proven to be a snug little affair. Kevin and Rita's flashlights had quickly revealed a shelving unit with assorted items (none of which looked particularly useful), a large sealed packing crate sitting almost in the middle of the room, a set of three switches mounted in a wall box to their left, and a oversized cantilever door running almost the length of the wall in front of them. There were no zombies or monsters of any other kind inside the room – not even bodies, thank goodness.

"Didn't we just see that big door outside, right above that platform?" Rita asked, pointing towards it.

"Yeah ..." Kevin said thoughtfully. He walked over to the wall box with the three switches, looking them over. After a moment, he flipped the leftmost one. Immediately the lights came on inside the storage room. He flipped the second switch. Nothing happened.

"Mebbe dey's da lights out dere," John suggested.

"Maybe," Kevin said. He flipped the third and last switch. Immediately there was a grinding noise, and the cantilever door rolled up on its side tracks. The corridor beyond was now well lit – and as the door continued to rise, it revealed another giant spider slowly making its way across the corridor wall directly opposite them and less than a foot from the high ceiling. John's rifle went off even as Kevin and Rita were going for their own guns. The thing immediately fell off the wall and hit the floor below with a loud PLOP! It lay there for a minute, all eight of its oversized legs wriggling in agony, and then it stopped and moved no more.

"Damn ...." John muttered. "Ise hates spidahs."

With that, Kevin again flicked the rightmost switch on the wall box. The cantilever door came back down and latched firmly into place. "I think we'll leave that down for the time being," he said, looking at the other two, "just in case any more of our eight-legged friends show up."

"Good idea," Rita said. "Say, we're as safe in here as we're probably gonna be, with that door back down and all. Why don't we go over our supplies, clean our weapons, and get a little rest? We might not get the chance later."

Kevin thought a moment. "Just the first two, I think," he finally said. "We don't know how fast the girls are moving. We might fall behind them. But if anybody wants to catch a catnap while the other two work ...."

That was how the three of them - Kevin, Rita, and John - soon found themselves sitting cross-legged on the floor of the storage room, cleaning their weapons and checking their supplies, just like Rita had suggested. Nobody slept. Nobody made any move to do so. Instead, each of them worked on their weapons. Kevin had first shown John the proper way to clean his hunting rifle - with Rita's approval - and now looked thoughtful as he cleaned his Kimber. "Dumb question," he said aloud. "If this part of the Sewers isn't supposedly used anymore, what's it doing with power?"

"Doan know," John said. "I've ain't ever been down in dis part, 'membah? Den again, seems dere were lotsa things goin' on wid da Sewers I didn't knows about. Once I heerd dose stories about da 'gators, dat was it for me. I didn't ask no mo' questions after dat, an' Ise quits as soon as I could."

"Then I guess this is going to remain one of Raccoon City's great unsolved mysteries," Kevin mused. He eyed down his gun's barrel, then commenced to clean it again. "Probably something to do with Umbrella, but we'll never know."

"Well, why would Umbrella put a room like this down here?" Rita said, as she cleaned her pistol. "I mean, it seems pointless, with that door and all. The whole thing reminds me of someone's private loading dock down at the river."

"Dey didn't," John said. "It wuz prob'bly here afore 'em. You see, back in Pro'ibishun days, dere used ta be all sorts of dese here tunnels runnin' under da city up from da rivah. Dey used them fer smuggling in booze an' hootch an' other sech stuff. Some of 'em prob'bly go back ta when dey built Raccoon City, back in the Wild West days an' all. Anyway, dey foun' a bunch of 'em when dey first started expandin' da sewer sistern, rite befor' da war, an' went on ahead an' kinnected dem all in. Dey put in dose big grates dat fill da whole tunnel at reg'lar spots an' sech, and den sealed off other tunnels so dey couldn't be used that way no mo'. Ed said dere was sum weird shit an' stuff left ovah from da way dese old tunnels used to be used, dough – lak this room. Dat platform below prob'bly used ta be a dock, an' dey'd bring in small flatboats from da river an' dock 'em right below in da tunnel itself. Dey could den load an' unload cargo an' store it up hear, den hand-carry it through dat surface access tunnel back dere t' wherever it was a-goin' – an' no one 'ould evah see dem do it."

"Awful long way underground to get to the river," Rita said thoughtfully, as she now swapped her pistol for her shotgun. "I mean, just think how far we are from the southern bank."

"Well, da river flowed a little different den," John said, "afor'n dey had dat big flood rite afta da war. 'Sides, dere are longer tunnels and a lot bigger in udder cities – or so Ed said. An', I mean, it's not lak they had to build all of 'em." He stopped cleaning his rifle for a moment to scratch the back of his neck. "Some of da guys who work down hear were tellin' me dat one of de biggest bunch of tunnels in the area is right hear under Raccoon City an' da Arklay Mountains to th' north. Ya know – where all da caves are? Some of 'em caves also ran right up to the river right under Raccoon City, an' sum of dose were s'pposedly hooked rite up to dese here smuggler's tunnels." He sighed, then went back to work on his weapon. "Course, dat was back den, an' a lot of dose old caves an' tunnels got sealed up as da city growed an' such – but lak I said, sometimes when dey foun' 'em, dey jes' made 'em part of da sistern." He chuckled, more to himself than anything else. "We's mite be sitting in one of dem dere original smuggling tunnels, ya know." He let out a sigh, pleased with himself and his line of reasoning, then went on. "No tellin' what dey moved in and out of here back den. Must-a taken a lot of folks ta move stuff up and down that dere ladder an' in an' out of here."

"Agreed," said Kevin. He held his Kimber in hand but he wasn't cleaning it. Instead, he was regarding it with an intent expression.

"Dat's what da coolies were fer, dough," John said nonchalantly. "An' the spics, an' the wetbacks, an' the nig—"

"That's enough!" Rita suddenly snapped, cutting him off. Kevin's head swiveled away from his gun and towards them. "Thank you for that interesting bit of history, Mr. Kendo," Rita continued, with a definite edge to her voice, "but we can do without the colorful labels thrown in, thank you very much."

"Whut? Whut'd I say?" John said. He looked perplexed.

"It's that last bit at the end, and the rest of what you were going to say," said Kevin. He glanced over at Rita, then at John. "Don't forget, John. Rita grew up in the Deep South. She has a rather intimate familiarity with that word that you were about to use."

"Oh," John said. He looked embarrassed. "Ise sorry, Miss Rita."

"It's okay, John," Rita said, and gave him a smile. "It's just that, well, that word, and others like it, make me madder than hell because of what comes with 'em." She now looked sad. "I'm old enough to remember a cross getting burned in the yard of a new doctor who had just moved into the area, and all because he treated some poor colored sharecroppers - who were some of the nicest people I ever knew growing up, and who none of the older folks would ever be caught dead with - just because of the color of their skin." She sighed deeply. "Some parts of the country haven't changed at all – and I hate it. I absolutely hate it. So please don't talk like that again, okay?"

"Yes'm, Miss Rita."

John gave her another curious look, but didn't say anything else. Instead, he went back to cleaning his rifle. On the other hand, Kevin had apparently come to a decision. He reholstered his Kimber, unbuckled the holster from both his leg and waist, then handed the holstered pistol to Rita. "Put this in your backpack, please," he said.

"Why?" Rita asked, taking the gun in its holster.

"Because I'm running low on ammo for my Kimber, and that's the best handgun we got," Kevin said. He took up his other holster, the one containing his Glock 18, and began fitting in on his hip where his Kimber had once rested. "It's time for me to bow to the inevitable. I guess I'll have to just fight the zombies with my new peashooter as best I can, until I find some more .45 ammo."

"The Glock 18 is a good gun, Kevin," Rita said, "and it's got that three-shot burst mode, too. I wish we had found an upgrade kit for my Beretta, so mine could do it to. I kinda think we would have, it we had been able to look harder. You know how much of a gun nut Captain Denham was."

"Yeah," Kevin said, "I know. That's one of the reasons I wish we had been able to go back downstairs and hook up with the girls that way. I was planning on swinging by the Locker Room, to see what might have been in there." He grinned. "Some folks keep the most interesting things in their personal lockers. But we didn't, and couldn't, so that's that." He finished, looked down at his new weapon, and then patted it. "Well, my little friend," he said, "I'm finally going to get to see if all of those good things they say about Glock are true."

"Ise done!" John suddenly announced. Both of the police officers looked at him. John was showing off his newly cleaned hunting rifle. "Whaddya think?"

Kevin eyed it over. He looked at Rita, who gave him a wink on the sly, then back at John. "I have to say I've seen better, but not by anybody who's never cleaned a rifle before. Good job, John."

For the first time since the three of them had been together, an honest smile of delight crept onto John's face. "Why, thank you boss," he said. "I did it jes' like ya showed me."

"You did fine, John," he said, then turned to Rita. "How's our supplies?"

"In everything but bullets, we're still pretty good," Rita said. "However, all it's gonna take is one more extended firefight like we had above, and we'll soon be reduced to fighting with our fists." Rita shook her head. "Especially with the shotgun ammo. Only you knew how much .45 ammo you had, Kevin, but it looks like you were starting to get as bad off as the rest of us."

"Ise still good," John said, holding up his box of .30-06 shells.

"Well, you just better hold on to those," Rita admonished him. "If we run out, you'll be the only one with a gun."

"Right," Kevin said. "All right, here's the plan. Everybody start looking for anything else we can use as a weapon. Long pipes, boards, two-by-twos or two-by-fours, anything."

"I'd lak a baseball bat full o' nails," John chirped in, "wid all the pointy ends out."

"Forget the nails – I'd settle for just the bat right now," Rita responded. "Especially if it's a steel bat. Or my nightstick. It's probably still sitting in the Conference Room, right where I dropped it. Fell off my belt whenever I was knocked out the window, and I never picked it back up. I guess I probably could have gotten another one, but there simply wasn't enough time. Things were so fast and confused there right at the end – just like back at the other station ...." Her voice trailed off, remembering the hurried evacuation, and Marvin ... poor, wounded, doomed Marvin. They had been forced to leave him behind. They simply didn't have any choice. Otherwise they might have wound up with a zombie in the back of the van, and then none of them might have survived.

"Sound's like you've got the picture," Kevin said. "All right, that's settled. As soon as we load back up, we're going to head down that tunnel Elza told us about so we can get that card key. Once we get it, we'll come back up here, unlock that door to the storm drains, and then go see if we can't finally hook up with Elza and the others. Oh, and one more thing. John, I want you to carry the backpack from now on instead of Rita."

"Why me?" John asked.

"Because you're stronger, and it won't be as much of a load on you," Kevin said. "Also, because you're stronger, you'll be able to carry more in case we get anything more."

"Makes sense," John agreed.

Rita reached out and put her hand on John's arm. She effected her best exaggerated Southern accent as she spoke. "Why, thank ya'll, kind suh. This lady is grateful that such a gentleman like you would spare her from carrying such a heavy load."

To the surprise of both Kevin and Rita, John actually blushed. "Aw, shucks," he mumbled. "Being a mule is one of da things I'm actu'lly good at."

Kevin watched the two of them laugh. "I'll have to remember that," he thought to himself, as he began to gather up his gear. The other two joined him even as they continued to chuckle. It was good that they could still laugh, he thought, even over little things like that. A sense of humor ... it was one of the few things that set those who were still living apart from the undead.

* * * * *

"This is embarrassing," Linda thought, as she got ready on her end of the L-tunnel. She was on the same end as the Break Room door, while little Sherry had decided to do her business on the far end. Both of them wanted privacy, neither of them really cared for the way they had to go about doing their business, but neither had any choice in the matter. At least Elza wouldn't be in there to stare at her, Linda thought, as she doffed her uniform coat. Elza just didn't seem to understand that sometimes, when you had an "accident" as Linda had done, and as she had done in her childhood many years ago, that the human bladder didn't always empty completely. Sometimes there was a small amount left unvoided – and given the amount of time that had passed, apparently enough had been added since then to signal her brain that further draining was needed. Elza didn't understand and probably never would, Linda thought. Besides – there was just something about that girl, something Linda was beginning to heartily dislike the longer they were forced to be together. Maybe it was because she seemed to have adapted so easily to what was happening, whereas Linda had not. Maybe it was the way she acted and talked, which was in start contrast to the company rumor's about "Spencer's little bimbo" at the university. Maybe it was something else entirely. She didn't know. All she wanted was to get the hell out of this hell and back to something normal, somewhere - anywhere - so long as it was as far away from Little Miss Rambo as possible. She draped her uniform coat over one of the rungs of the ladder in the ladder shaft directly in front of her, then began to unzip her coverall.

The one bad thing about her current location, Linda mused, was that she had been forced to take the end of the L-tunnel with the bodies floating in the center channel. Sherry had made that absolutely clear once the both of them had started looking for suitable spots where they could do their business. "Well," Linda had thought to herself, "little Miss Birkin has been on the run from those things for quite a while now, it seems. She deserves a break – and I am an adult. Like Miss Prissy said, whether I want to accept it or not, I need to toughen up. I've seen bad things, and I'm probably going to see even more before I'm done. Gotta get my clinical detachment going, like I do whenever I'm working in a lab. I just hope these are just as dead as my specimens back then." That was why she had been nice to Sherry and agreed to take the end with the bodies, so Sherry wouldn't have to worry about anything coming out of the water and – "No," Linda thought, and shuddered. "Best not to think like that. Besides, those two are dead, and have probably been dead for a long time." She made a wry smile as she thought about Elza – who would have probably made a point of doing her business right on them. Again, Linda shuddered. "There you go again," she thought. "Now cut that out and get this done, so you don't have to worry about it anymore."

Before she was ready to begin, Linda reached forward and pulled the roll of toilet paper out of one of her jacket pockets. It was noticeably smaller than before. Sherry had insisted on taking a big wad with her around the corner. Linda smiled, remembering the little discussion the two had with each other about how best to use toilet paper. Sherry was such a charming little girl. She was so different from that bitchy mother of hers, Linda thought. Oooohhh, how Linda had grown to hate Sherry's mother Annette! She wished she could ram that whole roll of toilet paper down that woman's throat – and a lot more besides. With that pleasant thought in mind, she bent down and set the roll of toilet paper on the walkway next to her, then unzipped the top of her coverall and began to pull her arms out.

Linda already had one arm free and was just starting to remove the other, when she suddenly had the strangest feeling that something was watching her. She couldn't hear anything, and she couldn't put her finger on why, yet it was there. Animal instinct, perhaps? Or just being where she was, doing what she was, with two very dead bodies floating in the water not that far away. The two bodies ... the Outbreak ... the T-virus ....

Suddenly Linda whirled about, half-out of her clothes, with her loose coverall sleeve flapping around behind her. Nothing. All that greeted her ears was the sound of the sewer water running out the grate and splashing down into the channel, and what little she could see of the two bodies farther down still bobbing in their places. She shivered, then shook her head. "Must be imagining things," she thought.

It was then that the other splashing sound began. As a horrified Linda watched, paralyzed in sudden fright, both of the bodies in the center channel began to rise up. The unnatural way they did it almost suggested a pair of marionettes, with their strings tangled together, being suddenly yanked up into a standing position. A most unnatural sound came from their throats as they rose. It was not the typical zombie moan or groan, but more of a gurgling mutter – no doubt having to do with their having been in the water for so long. Both turned and fixed their undead and half-rotted eyes on Linda, and pallid faces partially eaten through with underwater rot and who knew what else moved in unison with that horrible gurgling murmur. As a pair, both began slowly sloshing their way up the center channel and towards the terrified woman.

Linda began to scream.

\--------------------

Chapter 10 - Recoil

Elza had been trying on a new jacket she had found in one of the lockers in the Break Room - a brown leather bomber-like affair that happened to be close to her size, although a tad short in the sleeve - when she heard the additional splashing coming from the channel outside. Quick as thought her autopistol was in hand and she was dashing for the door. She heard the first of Linda's screams even as her hand turned the door handle, and a split-second later she was back in the L-tunnel.

Two sights greeted her vision at once. The first was Sherry's head peeking around the turn in the L-tunnel, looking as scared as Elza had ever seen her. She probably would have broken and ran had she known where to go. Instead, she turned to Elza as soon as the young woman appeared in the Break Room doorway. "Miss Elza!!" she cried above the din. The second was from where all the noise was coming – Linda's screams in particular. They were coming from the other end of the L-tunnel, next to the ladder shaft that led up to the North Canal collection tank. Linda, still half-out of her coverall, had been cornered there by what had been the two dead bodies floating in the center channel. Now they were fully revived zombies, and they were making a valiant go at grabbing Linda and taking her down. Two things were stopping them. The first was the fact that they were soaking wet, and had made everything around them also wet when they began splashing up the channel towards Linda. For every two lunges and lurches forward, they slipped and slid one-and-a-half back. The other was Linda. She was kicking and punching like a tomcat in heat ... with her one free leg and fist, that is. The soaked sewer zombie in front had somehow managed to latch onto her right ankle with an iron grip. It wasn't about to let go, either, despite the steady rain of kicks and punches Linda was giving to its head. It was trying to drag her back into the water, but she had one arm firmly latched around one of the rails in the nearby ladder shaft, and was using the fist of the other to rain a furiously wild series of blows on whichever zombie was in range - usually the one that had locked around her ankle - almost as fast as the kicks she was delivering with her one free leg. The other zombie couldn't even get close. Every time it would close in, a blow or kick from the terrified Linda would send it slipping and sliding back toward the center channel, and it would have to start all over again. Yet ... it was getting a little closer each time – just as the one who was holding fast to Linda's ankle, whose face and upper part of its head were now a bloody and misshapen beaten mass, was still valiantly trying to get a grip with its other hand. Linda had but seconds, and then she would be overpowered – and Elza knew it.

"Sherry! Break Room!" Elza called, not even bothering to look, knowing that the bright little girl would do as she was told. Even as she heard Sherry's running feet behind her, she thumbed her autopistol to single-shot mode, took careful aim, and opened fire.

The sewer zombie that was gripping Linda's leg was the first one hit. Elza put three shots into the nape of its neck, severing its spinal cord from its brain. It jerked and twisted, and with that it let go of Linda and fell back with a splash into the channel. Elza's next four rounds went into the other zombie. As soon as its companion had been hit with the first bullet, it had turned and then tried to attack Elza. Tried was the operative word. It never came close, for by that time Elza had thumbed her autopistol over to automatic fire. It danced like a man caught in a high-voltage electrical charge as a steady stream of well-aimed nine millimeter parabellum rounds slammed into it from top to bottom. It spun around on one leg and then splashed back into the channel. The water downstream began to turn red as it jerked about, still trying to come back to its feet. Elza walked up, thumbing her autopistol back to single-shot mode as she did so, pointed down, and put one last bullet into the thing's head. The splashing subsided, and what had once passed for a waterfall-accented quietness came back over the L-tunnel – save for the blubbering Linda, who still clung to the ladder shaft rail and who watched everything with wide-open yet unseeing eyes. Elza stood there, watching as the bodies that had fallen into the center channel were now swept away. Both bobbed and jerked like a piece of wood caught in some fast-moving current as they passed down the full length of the channel, were pulled through the sharp turn of the "L," and then were lost from sight.

Elza could see for herself the near-hysterical state that Linda was in. She had been like that when Elza had first found her – and she remembered what had happened then. Holstering her autopistol, she slowly and deliberately walked towards Linda. She spread her arms bit and placed her palms outward, so Linda could see she wasn't hiding anything. "Linda," Elza began, in the calmest and most level voice she could manage, "It's over. They're dead now. I killed them. You're all right now. You're all right ...." She kept this up until she was about a good pace away from Linda, and then she stopped. Slowly, carefully, she reached out with one hand and put it on the badly frightened woman's shoulder. "You're all right, now," Elza said again, in the same carefully calm and level tone as before. "You're safe."

Linda's eyes suddenly blinked, and she stared at Elza for a moment. A wave of emotions passed over Linda's face – and the next thing Elza knew, Linda had jerked out from under her hand and dashed behind the shaft ladder, putting it between her and the younger woman. "SAFE?!?" she screeched. "You call THIS safe?!?!"

"Take it easy, Linda," Elza said, still keeping her voice calm and level. "It's over. They're dead—"

"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!?!" Linda screamed, the tone of her voice now laced with a definite keening whine. "How do you know ANYTHING? What are you, some kind of know-it-all super Amazon bitch or something?! HUH?!?!"

"Linda--" Elza began, as she slowly kept moving towards Linda.

"I am SICK OF ALL THIS!!!" Linda ranted, gripping the far rail of the ladder tightly with both hands as she continued to hurl her hysterical rants at Elza. She too also began to inch forward, out from behind the cover of the ladder, her worked-up emotions providing her a boldness that she otherwise lacked, until she was within arm's reach of the younger woman "I am SICK of being in fear FOR MY LIFE!! Every time I turn around, somebody or SOME THING is TRYING TO KILL ME!!! And do you know what makes it even WORSE?!?! YOU'RE the one who always SAVES ME!!! YOU of all PEOPLE!!!! Oh, I heard the rumors too, like everyone else, about Spencer's little blond whore, and how she—"

Suddenly Elza's face twisted and her right arm moved in a lightning blur. Before Linda even realized what was happening she was being bitch-slapped – and hard. Elza's blow almost knocked her off her feet, and only her grip on the ladder rail kept her from falling. Linda's ranting ceased with that sudden, terrible, and fearsome blow. There was now a large red mark on the side of her face, and it stung like all out. She turned her head back, it having been knocked to one side by the violent force of Elza's blow, to look at the younger woman. Elza's face was unreadable, but her eyes were alive with a livid fire that made even the ranting Linda cower in fear. She slunk back behind the ladder, moving back out of arm's reach of the stock-still Elza, as the younger woman continued to stare at her with that unreadable yet highly intense stare. After a while, Elza spoke. Her voice was very low, and her words were icy cold.

"You need to shut the hell up," Elza said, as quietly as if she were lecturing a Sunday school class. "You don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about. Now you had better get your act together right now," and with those two words her voice raised a bit, then lowered again, "before I personally hogtie you and leave you for the zombies to find. And don't you think I won't, either. Understand – Miss Merton?"

All the fearful Linda could do was nod her head in acknowledgement. Elza stared at her for just a little longer, then suddenly turned on her heel. She quickly strode to the Break Room door, opened it, went inside, and slammed it shut behind her. At the far end of the L-tunnel, down by the ladder shaft, Linda sunk to the floor and began to sob again.

* * * * *

The first thing that Kevin, Rita, and John had done upon emerging from the storage room was to make a thorough sweep of the main tunnel below. The overall layout was as Elza had described over the radio. Their end, with its neat little platform or dock (as they now thought of it) and the storage room above with its large cantilever door, were both at the end of one arm of the overall "T" shape that Elza had mentioned was on the Sewers system map. The narrow tunnel that connected at its center and led back a ways to the surface ladder shaft formed the base of the "T." The other arm of the "T" was as yet unexplored by them ... and that had been the one down from where the giant spider had come. Kevin had decided to knock this little bit of exploring out of the way, while they could, so they hopefully wouldn't have to revisit the area again. "Besides," he had said just before they left the storage room, "I like to know what's at my back before I move forward."

The short trip and visit to this previously unexplored end of the "T" proved not a boring one by any means. Two giant spiders tried to ambush them as soon as they came inside the largish room that marked the end of that end of the "T." One issued out of a vent high on the wall as soon as they entered, while the other almost fell directly on top of John at the back. It had apparently been clinging to the wall just above the main tunnel's entrance, waiting for its chance to pounce, and now it did. It missed, though – partly due to bad luck and partly due to John's squeamishness towards spiders. He had realized what was happening a split-second before the big arthropod would have dropped down on top of him, and had managed to lunge to one side right before it made its move. This put him a perfect position to club its head with the butt of his rifle as soon as it had dropped to the floor, and he now did just that. It gave out an inhuman squeal, something like a cross between a chirping bullfrog and a frightened howler monkey, and quickly backed into the corridor. At the same time, both Kevin and Rita were firing their pistols at the spider in front of them, but it was proving quite the artful dodger. It had somehow skittered out of the way of most of their shots, then ran up and around the walls themselves, half-circling back to where it first entered and then going on around the room. It was heading straight for the spot where John had been caught between the legs of the first spider, and was busy trying to bash its head in with his rifle butt – yet it never made it. A three-round burst from Kevin's Glock dropped the thing onto the floor, where it did an inverted death dance before lying still, all of its legs hanging out and down around its now-dead body. Just about the same time, there was a sound like an overripe cantaloupe bursting from the entrance of the tunnel, and both Kevin and Rita caught a vision of both green-colored bits of blob and other such unidentifiables splattering in all directions. The body of the now-headless big spider slumped to the floor, and its death grip on John relaxed. The big man untangled himself from its legs, visibly shaking. "God damn but I hates spidahs," he muttered, "an' yet I gotta kill one da size of a pony ta stay alive!"

"Be glad you didn't have to kill two," Kevin said, hopping up onto the nearby platform where the other spider had fallen. This platform was a lot bigger than the one at the other end of the "T" junction, although there was no nearby overhead storage room and loading door on this end. He gave the body of the spider a cursory examination, then turned back to Rita and nodded. "This one's not going anywhere soon," he said, then nodded toward John's. "Neither is that one."

"Good job, guys," Rita said, also hopping up onto the platform to join Kevin. She noticed that it was covered with all sorts of odd flotsam and other debris, no doubt caught there by some eddy or something whenever the room had periodically filled and drained in the past. She nodded toward the high vent up on the end wall. "So how long you think it's gonna be before we get more company?" she asked Kevin.

The younger RPD officer only half-heard her. He was bent down beside the rusted-out remains of a fifty-gallon metal drum that lay on the platform. Rita looked at him quizzically, then came around so she could get a better look. So too did John from the other end of the platform. Both stopped once they saw what had interested Kevin. It was a body of a zombie dressed in the remains of the garb of a Raccoon City sewer worker. The body had been swathed from head to toe in spider silk – but upscaled to the size of the spiders that had attacked them, so that what would have been wisps of angel hair were now thick cords the size and strength of hemp ropes. Blood and other body fluids had soaked through the silk wrappings in places, and a pair of baleful eyes glared at them, but that was all. John whistled. Kevin looked up at him, then over at Rita. "Looks like we interrupted somebody's dinner," he said. "The thing can't even move. Probably got bit and wrapped up not long before we arrived, and the spiders were trying to add us as a side course. You know – like those spiders in the forest in The Hobbit?"

"Don't even joke about something like that, Kevin," Rita said with a shudder.

"I wasn't," Kevin said. He looked over to where John was standing. "Hey, John," he said, "what's that off to your right?"

"Huh?" John said, looking to where Kevin was pointing. The fact that only part of the lights worked in this room, plus the fact that they were mounted on a ceiling that was as high as the section with the small platform and overhead storage room, resulted in a half-dim look to everything that sometimes played tricks with one's eyes. John looked at the area that Kevin had indicated for a moment, squinting as he did, then suddenly reached down and grabbed something. From the flotsam on the platform he pulled out a piece of thick rusted conduit pipe about four feet long. At one end it had an attached elbow and a four-inch extension. It was this extension, sticking up from the pile of flotsam, that had caught Kevin's eye – and it was also the means by which John had pulled the pipe out of the pile. Now he shifted his grip to the end without any attachments, and swung it above his head a few times like a baseball bat. "Neat!" he said with a grin. "Good catch, boss! Dis might come in handy."

Rita was already nosing around the pile of flotsam herself, trying to keep a safe distance between herself and the wrapped-up zombie sharing the platform with them. It made her think of an Egyptian mummy, and she had never cared for those kind of horror stories. "I don't see anything else like that up here," she said, "but this light is bad." She promptly pulled her flashlight and began shining it around. "Hello, what's this?" she said, as she reached down and picked up a small object.

"What is it?" Kevin said, as he came over to look. John lowered his pipe and also came over. The object looked like an old-fashioned skeleton key. He looked at Rita. "That's too shiny to have been down here long."

"You think maybe it belonged to our friend over there?" Rita said, nodding at the wrapped-up zombie.

"Could be," Kevin said. "If it did, then it may be part of the sewer system keys. We'd better take it with us."

Rita nodded, then slipped the key into a side pocket. A sudden movement overhead caught her eye, and she whipped her light towards the high vent. Kevin and John's gaze followed the beam as it settled on the vent opening. Another giant spider was just in the process of emerging out of the vent hole.

"I sez we leave dis guy his dinnah and high-tails it outta here," John growled, holding his new-found pipe like a cudgel.

"I think you're right," Kevin said. "All right guys – to the other end and out the door. Move!"

All three turned and ran for the tunnel entrance. By now a second giant spider had joined the first, and the two were starting to circle around the walls, one on each wall, towards the platform where the three had previously been standing.

* * * * *

"Oh, yes ... yes – be careful! That's my hurt shoulder."

"Sorry, Miss Elza."

"That's all right. A little more ... okay, now start pressing and rubbing with your thumbs. Aaaahhhhh ... that feels great ...."

Elza was seated at the small desk in the Break Room where the Sewers control system access computer was located. Sherry stood directly behind her, massaging her neck. As for Elza, she both studied the map of the Sewers in front of her and thoroughly enjoyed the massage. She hadn't realized how tight her neck muscles had been until Sherry had come up behind her and offered to rub them. "You look upset," Sherry had said when asked. "Sometimes Dad rubs Mom's neck, or the other way around, when one of them is upset. They showed me and sometimes I rub one of them. May I rub you? Maybe I can help." Elza had let her, and she was properly grateful. Little Sherry was turning out to have been quite the find in this adventure.

"Miss Elza?" Sherry suddenly asked.

"Uh-huh?" Elza answered, still studying the map and enjoying the massage.

"Is something wrong with Miss Linda? She hasn't come back in yet."

"No," Elza said, and she sighed deeply. "She's just scared, angry, upset, and all sorts of other things right now. There's nothing out there anymore that can hurt her, so she probably just wants to be alone for a while. Remember, she's had more scares in the past couple of hours than most people get in their entire life. If it weren't for some of the things I've already been though, I might feel the same way."

"Like what happened with me after I left school and the zombies attacked?"

"Yes," Elza said. She suddenly turned in her chair. Sherry started to pull her arms back, but not before Elza had reached up and clasped one of her hands within her own. She held it gently, though, softly rubbing it between her fingers, and Sherry smiled back at her. "You've been a brave little girl, Sherry. I can't think of any other little girl who's gone through what you must have and survived."

"I did what I had to do," Sherry answered. "Dad says you have to sometimes do that to get things done."

"Your father sounds like a wise man," Elza said.

At that Sherry frowned and looked down. "He's always busy these days – both him and Mom. They don't play with me like they used to, back when I was little." She pulled her hand from Elza's own, and then folded both her arms across her chest. A troubled look danced across her face. "They never have any time for me any more. That's why they sent me to the academy. They work all the time now, and don't think of anything else. It's like I don't even exist anymore."

"Oh, Sherry," Elza said, putting one hand on one of her shoulders. "You poor thing."

At that moment the door to the Break Room was opened. Sherry started, and Elza quickly whipped her autopistol up in a firing position, but it was only Linda. The junior Umbrella researcher closed the door behind her, made sure it remained latched, then went around the room's center table to join them at the computer. She pulled out one of the folding chairs around the table and sat down. She had apparently composed herself, and there was a set look to her face. Elza also noticed that Linda had zipped her coverall all the way up to her neck. She remembered seeing the rather expensive-looking black bra that Linda had been wearing beneath when she had been half-out of her coverall and fighting with the two sewer zombies. Idly she wondered what macho man Kevin might think if he ever got the chance to see it.

Nobody said anything for almost a full minute. It was Linda who broke the silence. She tended to hesitate when she spoke, but did so with all the determination of someone who had to do something unpleasant and fully intended to go through with it, no matter what. "Miss Walker ... I ... I'm sorry for what I said out there after you rescued me." She turned to look Elza in the eye. "I had no cause to act like that. I was frightened out of my wits, and I couldn't think straight. I should have been properly grateful instead of turning on the person who saved me, and I apologize." She stopped speaking but continued to look at Elza, her face still set firm.

Elza took a deep breath, and then she too spoke. "Thank you ... and I'm sorry for hitting you. I shouldn't have done that. I knew you were upset, but I let some of the things you were saying get to me anyway. That was wrong and I know it, and I too apologize." She stopped, and the room grew quiet again.

The silence, that followed went on for so long that it became uncomfortable. It was Sherry who broke it. "Does this mean you two aren't mad at each other anymore?"

She looked from one to the other. Linda didn't say a word. After a while, Elza spoke. "It means we can work together again, Sherry." She now stood up. "And I think this little soap opera of ours has gone on long enough. It's time to get out of here, folks." She pointed at the map on the computer monitor. "I'm going to go to the Central Control Room for the Sewers, and that's not far from here. You see this?" she said, pointing to a spot on the map on the screen. "That's the North Canal. That's the one I mentioned earlier, and that's our road out of here -- because once inside it's a straight shot to the storm drains, and from there we can hook up with the others." She now sighed. "Unfortunately this map doesn't show us how to get in there -- no door, nothing. I think the Control Room may hold the answer to this particular puzzle, but I gotta get up there first to find out.

"What do you want me to do?" Linda said.

"Nothing," Elza said firmly, as she turned and walked over to her laden armor vest. She began putting it on even as she spoke. "I want you to stay in here with Sherry, so she'll have somebody to protect her. I'll worry about opening the way out of here for us. Besides," she added, as she paused in her preparations to look at Linda, "you'd only be in my way."

Linda felt her face flush. "I can help—" she began to say, but Elza abruptly cut her off.

"No, you can't. Leastways, not in a way that does me much good." She lifted up one of her booted feet and planted it on the closest chair, checking her sheathed knife strapped to its side, but kept on talking. "Linda, you've got a problem, and it's high time you faced it. You are too easily flustered in a stressful situation. You've freaked out every time you've been in trouble, and that's bad. Very bad." She put her foot back on the floor, and now looked at Linda squarely. "That's why I don't want you going with me. I can't count on you to watch my back." She paused, but Linda didn't respond, so she continued. "About the only way you can help me is to stay in here with Sherry, as an absolute last-ditch form of protection for her. Out there, like I said, you'd only be in my way."

There was another long pause. Sherry looked back and forth between the two women, sensing the tension between them but not really understanding it. Eventually, Linda forced a laugh. "You're right," she said, trying but failing to make her voice sound confident. She stared at the wall instead of Elza. "I am a crack-up. I've never been in anything even close to being like this before, and I just don't know how to handle it."

Sherry started to say something, but Elza motioned for her to be quiet. "At least you've admitted it. That's a start, anyway." She pulled out her SiG Sauer pistol and put it on the table next to Linda. Beside it she placed two full ammo clips. "I'm going to have to trust you enough to leave this with you again. Remember how to use it?"

Linda turned her head to look at Elza. She smiled weakly, then motioned with her hands as if she were loading an ammo clip. "I remember. Push until it's full, stick it in until you hear a click. Point in the direction I want to shoot and pull the trigger."

"Not at me, I hope," Elza said. She smiled. "That was a joke."

"Ha-ha," Linda said, "very funny." There was no trace of emotion in her voice.

Suddenly Sherry was beside Elza, with her arms wrapped tightly around Elza's thigh. "Don't go, Miss Elza," she pleaded. "Don't leave me."

Elza reached down with one hand and tousled the girl's hair. "I'll be back – and Miss Linda will be in here with you."

"But she's not you!"

"Nobody could be you," Linda muttered, as if to herself.

Elza heard the remark but said nothing. Instead, she hugged Sherry close for a few precious seconds. After that, she made Sherry let go. She walked quickly to the door, opened it, and went through. The door latched shut behind her, and she was gone.

Elza stood alone in the L-Tunnel, just outside the door to the Break Room. The only evidence of what had happened in here not long before were several long smears of blood not far from the ladder and shaft up to the West Tank. All was silent save for the noise of the water pouring through the grate at the near end, and the water splashing through the channel beside her and around to the other end of the tunnel. She found the noise of the flowing water soothing, oddly enough, despite the fact that she knew it was sewer water. It made her think of brooks and streams where she had played and later hunted in younger days. Those thoughts helped to smooth and calm her troubled emotions. She sensed what was happening, sought for and grabbed onto that calm with both hands, and didn't let go until she felt completely at peace again. The things that Linda had said earlier were now out of sight and out of mind, and that was for the best. Now, if only that stupid fool woman wouldn't go off half-cocked again, Elza could concentrate on the one thing on which she needed to be focused the most: how to survive and get out of Raccoon City while they still had a chance.

From where she stood, Elza could see both the ladder shaft to the collection tank and the as-yet-unopened double doors almost directly across from her. She had a decision to make. She was going to have to choose one or the other to take. The map said that both opened to paths that eventually led to the Control Room - the place where she needed to go in order to start draining the system, and thereby get at that grate that opened onto the North Canal without having to flounder around in sewer water - but maps didn't tell you everything, as Elza well knew from her own personal experiences. The collection tank route was the longer one, but it might well prove to be the safer. The route through the double doors appeared to be the quickest, per the system map, because it was a straight shot to a large room that was marked Central Hub on the system map. That was where the route from the West Tank room also eventually exited, and it was also where the door to a place marked "Main Pump Room" was located. Elza had a feeling that she might have to go in there before all was said and done. This part of the Sewers obviously had power, but what if the drain pumps in the collection tanks didn't? That and other factors she weighed in her mind, as she strove to pick which one of her two possible paths was the best.

All of this took about a second, maybe a little more. Once it was over, Elza's mind was made up and her path was chosen. She hopped over the center channel and went to the double doors. She would take the shortest path, and hope for the best. She fished the Water Key out of her firesuit pants pocket and fitted it into the lock, then turned it. Despite the corroded appearance of the doors, the lock appeared to be either brand new or well maintained, and it turned easily once the Water Key had been inserted. There was an audible click! as the door unlocked. Elza had to be careful of her footing as she opened them, since both swung outward and took up a fair amount of the available walkway space in front of them as a result, but soon enough both doors were open. Before her was a straight corridor of medium length, not all that different from the one she was already in save that there was no center channel, and at its far end she could see another set of reddish-brown and rather corroded-looking double doors. "The Central Hub," she thought to herself. "Now we're getting somewhere." With that thought in mind, Elza walked into the new corridor without hesitation. Her mind was made up and her path was clear. The only thing left to do was to get the job done.

As she walked, Elza occasionally noticed what appeared to be large vents covered by metal mesh grilles spaced at regular intervals right at the top edge of the corridor. Sometimes they were half-hidden by the pipes and cables running alongside the walls, and sometimes they were completely unobstructed. All of them showed evidence of being underwater, as did the entire corridor. Elza suddenly stopped about halfway down the corridor, automatically raising her autopistol into the ready position. It was more of an instinctual reaction than anything else, but she had learned long ago to listen to her instincts. Something, some noise or sound just out of the range audible to the human ear had triggered a subconscious warning to her brain, and she automatically acted on it. Such actions had proven right many a time while on the hunt, and even earlier that day in her Outbreak adventures. Such an action proved so again now. Without warning, two of the vent grille covers, one on each side of the corridor in front of and behind her, suddenly flew off and shot to the opposite wall. They hit and then fell to the floor with a great clatter of noise. Out of both vents, before and behind, one set each of long, spindly legs appeared, followed by a body that by itself was the size of the average dog.

"Spiders," Elza thought to herself, in the split second that she took on deciding how to deal with them. "Kevin warned me. Now I know. It'll be the alligators next – but these guys now."

The two giant spiders quickly emerged into the corridor and began skittering towards Elza with all the speed that their oversized legs and body muscles afforded them. Elza's reaction was almost immediate. She turned and ran back towards the open end of the corridor, firing as she went. The giant spider back there was dead, on its back, and flailing its legs even as she reached it, but she didn't stop. She kept running, turning to fire back at the second one, which was hard on her heels. It had closed the distance with remarkable speed, and Elza would have been caught had not the end of the corridor been open. She ran through and around one of the open double doors, then quickly turned and held her ground. She ambushed the second giant spider even as it came through. It never had a chance.

The Break Room door suddenly opened, and both Linda and Sherry's heads popped through. "We heard gunfire—" Linda began to say, but never finished. Both saw the dead thing in front of Elza. Sherry squealed and darted back inside immediately. Linda's face turned white and her eyes went wide. Her jaw worked, but she made no sound.

"Get back in there!" Elza commanded. "Don't come out 'till I come for you!" Linda's head immediately disappeared, and the Break Room door slammed shut again.

Elza immediately changed clips in her autopistol. She took a deep breath, gathering herself as she did, then dashed back around the door into the straight corridor again. She ran, hoping to get to the end of the corridor before more unfriendly visitors dropped in, but that was not meant to be. She saw the long legs coming out of the last high vent to the right even as she approached, and she knew that she wouldn't have time to pass before it was on her. She immediately checked herself and whirled about, but a similar sight greeted her from behind. Two more sets of legs were appearing out of the vents back there, one on either end of the straight corridor and from the high vents closest to the open doors down there. She whirled back around to face her immediate threat. The giant spider in front of her was now already partway out of the vent. It was far bigger than the others, and it was probably a female. That she guessed from the half-dozen or so smaller spiders that were riding piggyback on its sternum. Some of the little ones were already skittering off of the mother and onto the nearby walls. The female spider was the more aggressive of the two genders, as Elza well knew, and if a female had decided to join in the hunt in that corridor, well then ....

Elza's response was immediate. She began shooting at every spider in sight.

* * * * *

There was the satisfyingly heavy sound of a solid thud! as John's pipe slammed first into the sewer zombie's mid-section, and then down between its shoulder and neck. It fell with a wild cry of pain on its lips and rabid anger in its eyes. A little farther down the slime-lined L-tunnel, Kevin was making short work of a second sewer zombie with a broken piece of a pallet support he had found in some flotsam en route. He was using it both to stab and hit his prey respectively. A little bit beside and behind him, but in full view of both Kevin and John, stood Rita with her shotgun at the ready. She was there to provide backup, in the event that the melee weapons of the two men weren't enough for the job They were, and soon both of them were finished dispatching their respective zombies.

"Damn, but doing this the hard way is hard work," Kevin said. He drew one hand up over his forehead to wipe the sweat from his eyes.

"But it's fun, ain't it?" John said with a grin. He was holding his bloodstained pipe loosely, and there was a bit of a jaunty air about him. "Hell, it's jes' lak any bar fight I've ever been in – 'ceptin' dat dese guys bite, and their bites kin kill ya."

"Well I'm glad you two are having so much fun," Rita quipped from behind him. "I feel like a third arm back here with nothing to do."

"But a very necessary one," Kevin added, as he looked down towards the turn in the L-tunnel. "I wouldn't risk this if we didn't have you as backup."

"Yeah. Think of all the ammo we're saving," Rita said, as she lowered her shotgun and trotted up to join them.

"Yeah," Kevin said. He looked at John. "What's the count now?"

"Seven zombehs, two spidahs, and dat rat-thing dat wuz as big as a dog," John said without hesitation. "And we haven't seen one of those damn spidahs since three doors back."

"What I'd like to know," Rita said, "is what all of these zombies are doing down here. She pointed at the body closest to them. "Didya notice they're wearing two different kinds of clothes?"

Kevin looked at the body of the zombie to which Rita was pointing. He thought about it for a minute or so. "I see what you mean, Rita. Some of 'em are wearing sewer worker uniforms, while the others are wearing civvie duds. John?" he queried, looking at the big man.

John let go of his pipe with one hand, and then used his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. Kevin and Rita had by now come to realize that this was a habit for John whenever he was thinking hard, so neither of them said anything. He thought for a bit, then spoke. "Well, da sewer workers is easy enough to figger. Dey might have been workin' down here, or come down here 'cuz of da Outbreak. it's dem civvies I cain't figger. Ed rarely ever let any folks come down here whenever I wuz working with the sistern. He said it was too dangerous. Da only types he ever let down I knows of were big shots, or family and friends with guys ta watch out for dem, but only in da safe spots. I ain't never seen civvies this far in the sistern. Then again," and with that he looked around at the green, slime-encrusted walls, "I ain't nevah been down heah before, eedder."

"Maybe they're your smugglers," Rita said, "Modern ones, I mean."

Kevin looked thoughtful. "You know," he said, "the last time I was in his bar and had a chance to visit with Jack, he said that the gangs on the river docks had become rather active all of a sudden. He said things were getting so bad that he was thinking about buying another gun for the bar." He looked down at the body, then nudged it with his foot. "These are the kind of clothes that some of those gangs wear."

"You think maybe they found a way down into these tunnels?" Rita asked.

"Why not?" Kevin said. "If John's story is right, and I've no reason to doubt it now, then there will be access points to these older sewer tunnels close to the river. My guess is that one or more of the dock gangs found one, got inside, and decided to use these tunnels for their own purposes. It would certainly explain why there are zombies in civilian clothes down here, instead of just sewer workers. It might even explain the power, and why some of the doors and other things look like they've been recently repaired or replaced."

"Maybe we'd be better off tryin' one of the ways they came in than what we're doin' now," Rita mused.

Kevin shook his head. "If there were a quicker way to the way out of here, Elza would have seen it on the system map and told us. There's probably other ways - we may have even passed some, and might pass some more - but none of them probably take us directly where we want to go in the shortest amount of time." He paused for effect, then added, "That's to the girls and to the main storm drains, and then back to the surface and outta town quick as we can."

Both Rita and John nodded in agreement. "Da boss is right," John said.

"I couldn't agree more," Rita added.

"All right," Kevin said, hefting his makeshift club. "Rest break's over. It's high time we get this done."

"Just a minute, Kevin," Rita said. She was looking at the wide part of the passage. It had been common to every one of the tunnel and corridor segments they had already passed through. It was broken only by a ledge just wide enough to walk on single-file – sometimes on the left and sometimes on the right side of the various tunnels through which they passed, but always there. "Is it just my imagination," Rita continued, "or is this middle part getting narrower – and deeper?"

"Hey, you're right," Kevin said. He had knelt down to take a better look at the lower part of the floor in comparison to the raised side walkway. "That platform where we came in and the ledge in the very first room were both the same height, just right above the ankle." He stood up, moved so he was standing right beside the raised walkway, then pointed. "This one's about even with the middle of my shin."

"So the center is getting lower," Rita said. "Or maybe the side walkways are rising."

"Probably de first," John said. "Back in the old days, dey always tried ta have everything run downhill. Dat way, ya didn't have ta have any pumps."

"Gravity feed," Rita said.

"Huh?" John said, looking puzzled.

"Like the way the Romans used to build their water systems," Rita replied. "That's how they used to flood the Coliseum back then."

"Why would they want ta do dat?" John asked. "Wouldn't it drown the glagiaters?"

Kevin shook his head. "Never mind, John," he said, then forced the topic of conversation back on track. "Well, that shoots down your theory about this being an old smuggler's tunnel,"

John shook his head. "Mebbe not. 'Member, all dem tunnels run down to the river. Dey probably added all this stone and masonry later, and dat's when dey would have built 'em up da way dey are now. An' you see how da side walkway would alwuz stay above water, even if da tunnel floods?"

"Unless enough water is pumped in so that the entire tunnel gets flooded," Rita said. She looked around at the slime-encrusted walls. "That seems to happen a lot these days."

"Dat prob'ly started happenin' once dey made dis part of the Sewers," John said. "Looks lak dey's been usin' it fer a run-off tunnel whenever they have to drain the sistern for cleanin'. Dey dump everything in here, then jes' let it run away ta wherever an' ferget it."

"Perish the thought," Kevin said. He too was looking at the walls. "What would happen if anybody were caught in here when that happened?"

"Dey'd drown," John replied, almost without thinking – then stopped, suddenly realizing what he was saying. "Dey'd have nowhere ta go," he added, his voice much lower and introspective. "If-n the only way in is back dat way," and he pointed back behind them, "den the inflow of water would keep 'em from making it back out. Dey'd drown long before dey made it outta here."

"Unless one of the side passages opens to another way out," Rita offered.

"Maybe," Kevin said. All three of them were looking at each other, their concern evident on their faces. The import of what they had been discussing had clearly sunk in. "All the same," Kevin added, "I think we'd better get a move on. I don't want to be caught down here should what we just discussed actually happen."

None of the others offered any further comment. Instead, all three resumed their journey – if somewhat slightly faster than before. They rounded the turn in the current tunnel, walked up to the next door, opened it, and passed on through.

* * * * *

The sounds of short-burst gunfire and the occasional loud cursing were muffled by both the distance and the Break Room door, but not completely. Linda and Sherry sat together in one of the folding chairs at the far corner of the table. Sherry was in Linda's lap, and held her arms tightly around her as she trembled with each new muffled curse or staccato burst of gunfire. Linda held onto Sherry to keep herself from trembling. She knew she was just as frightened as the little girl, if not more. Elza's pistol and the two extra full clips of ammo she had left for then lay on the nearby table within easy arm's reach. Linda didn't want anything to do with them, but she knew better given their current predicament – and especially that of Elza outside, fighting those giant spiders and God knew what else as she strove to carve a path to the Control Room ... and to finding a way out of the Sewers for all of them. Linda knew she couldn't have done what Elza was doing now, and she cursed herself for not having the nerve to pick up the pistol and ammo and go help her. Yet there was Sherry. Who was going to look after Sherry? She had looked after herself for the past few days, obviously, but now that there were adults to look after her ... and yet, she was a Birkin. Linda hated Sherry's mother royally and for good reason - the woman had obviously tried to get her killed - and yet she couldn't find it in herself to hate Sherry. The little girl was ... what was a good word? Innocent? No, obviously not, since she seemed to know a fair deal about the work her parents were doing for Umbrella. Unblemished? Better, perhaps ... but it still didn't sound quite right.

Without warning, both the cursing and the gunfire stopped. Both Linda and Sherry turned to look at the Break Room door, straining to hear the least sound that might tell them what was going on. A few seconds later, they heard a muffled clang! as if from very far away.

"That's done it," Linda said. "She's in the Central Hub. It won't be long now."

Sherry looked up into Linda's face. "But what about all those spiders?"

"I'll bet she killed all of them," Linda said with a half-smile. "You know how fierce Miss Walker can be in a fight."

Sherry looked down, her face still troubled. She was obviously thinking hard about something, and whatever it was wasn't pleasant. "Miss Linda? I think we need to follow her."

Linda looked down at her. "Now you know what Miss Elza said. We were to stay in here until she came back, and you saw why when we tried to go out earlier."

"But what if something comes up behind her and--"

"Sherry," Linda said. She made the little girl slide off of her lap as she stood up. She looked again at the gun and ammo clips before her, then turned to face Sherry. The little girl was looking down at the floor, her face still troubled. "Miss Elza knew it was dangerous out there. That's why she went alone, and that's why she left us this gun. We've got to wait until she gets back. Understand?"

Sherry said nothing. Instead, she sat down in the chair that Linda had just vacated. She crossed her arms, as if hugging herself, and then began slowly swinging her feet back and forth. Her legs were too short for them to reach all the way down to the floor. Linda leaned back on the table edge and took a deep breath. She felt guilty, and it embarrassed her. A very small part of her, the part which Elza's own rash bravado had stirred up from their first encounter onward, wanted to do exactly as Sherry said – and yet the older, more seasoned, and more rational part of her kept yelling silently that it was sheer madness, that she was going to get herself killed, that she was going to get little Sherry killed, that she had already had enough horrors for one day, let alone one lifetime, and that the best thing she could do was do as she had been told, shut up, and stay put. She took another deep breath and shook her head.

"It's awful quiet out there," Sherry said.

"Yeah," Linda replied, staring at the opposite wall. "It is."

* * * * *

The double doors on the lower level of the Central Hub flew open as Elza Walker half-staggered and half-stumbled through the doorway. She grabbed one of the doors and checked her momentum, lurching around as it swung – for her forward momentum, had she not offset it, might have caused her to miss the narrow bridge attached to the narrow platform in front of the doors and blunder off into a wide and deep collection pool. She was breathing heavily, and her behavior was as if she were not in full control of her body ... and she was not.

"Poison ..." she gasped, her speech slurred and slow. "Bl— ... blue vial ...."

Elza had won the battle with the spiders, but it had been a long and terrible one. She had used up all of her nine-millimeter ammunition in the process, and she had been bitten no less than half-a-dozen times by the smaller ones. There had been simply too many of them to keep all of them off of her and fight them at the same time. The worst bite of them all, however, had come from the big female. It had managed to sink its mandibles in her leg below the right knee, where her firesuit pants were tucked into her biker boot. Both tough fabric and treated leather had managed to ward off the worst of the bite - and suffered themselves in the process - but not entirely. At least one mandible had sunk into flesh even as Elza killed the thing, and an almost unbelievable amount of spider venom had been injected directly into her bloodstream. While Elza had been bitten by spiders before - few country girls hadn't - nothing in her lifetime experiences had prepared her for what she was going through now, save that time when that rattlesnake had surprised her. The main difference here was that the venom of this particular breed of mutant spider seemed to be working far faster than that of the rattlesnake. Elza's slowly clouding mind guessed that she had but minutes to save herself, before she wouldn't be able to do anything at all.

With a great effort, and favoring the leg with the spider bite, Elza managed to turn around. She somehow managed to grab both doors and slam them shut again. No more spiders had appeared after that last batch, but she wasn't taking any chances. She then headed to the nearest section of wall and stopped, propping herself up against it. All the symptoms were there, and growing worse – dizziness, nausea, loss of vision around the periphery, a growing feeling of numbness radiating from the bite through the rest of her body, and so on. She knew the best thing to do would be to cut and suck out the poison – but she also knew that once she left her feet, she probably wouldn't be able to get back up again. Instead, she let her empty autopistol slide out of her numbing fingers. It clattered as it fell near the wall, and then it lay still. Elza now fumbled and pawed at the pouches on her armor vest with hands and fingers that were steadily going numb. She found the pouch that she was looking for, and pulled out from it a sealed vial containing a blue powder. It slipped in her numbing fingers as she tried to raise it, then bounced once off of her dropped autopistol before splashing into the nearby collection pool. Cursing, she tried again. This time, she turned and braced her back against the wall with what strength remained in her good leg, using her steadily numbing arms and hands to retrieve a second blue vial. This time, she succeeded. She somehow managed to wedge it between a thumb and forefinger, cap up, then tried to lift it up. She couldn't raise her arms any higher than her breasts. With an effort that seemed like she was lifting a boulder, she put her free hand under the elbow of the arm with the hand holding the vial, then pulled up with all the strength she had left. She just managed to push the vial the rest of the way up to her mouth. She tore off the cap with her teeth, then gripped the vial in her teeth, threw her head back, and emptied its entire bitter-tasting blue contents into her mouth. She swallowed, then opened her mouth and dropped the now-empty vial. It clattered away somewhere out of her line of sight. The deed done, Elza sank to the floor. She slid down on her rump, back propped up against the wall, and sat there – splay-legged, arms at her sides, and motionless. She could do no more, and in fact was incapable of doing more. The only thing left to do now was sit ... and wait for the inevitable.

By now, all of Elza's limbs had gone numb. She couldn't move anything save her head, and only barely at that. The paralysis agent in the spider venom now had her in its full grasp, and none of her other voluntary muscles would respond. Clinically she wondered if the venom would have any effect on her involuntary muscles. If it did, and was only taking its sweet time about it, well ... either the blue herb powder would save her, or the spider venom would claim her life. If the blue herb powder worked on it peculiar poison like the red and green ones had worked on her shoulder wound, she would know in about fifteen minutes. If not ... well ... it wouldn't matter any more after that. Not that she'd ever regain consciousness again to know, she mused ruefully.

With nothing better to do but wait, and unable to move either from her spot or to shift her position, Elza began a methodical study of every part of the Central Hub, which she could see from where she had been forced to sit. She was located on a wide platform that ran two-thirds the width of the wall where the double entry doors of the Central Hub were located. Directly in front of her was a long and narrow bridge made of steel beams and standard floor grates that ran the length of the room. It was braced on both ends by sitting on a two-inch metal lip sticking out from the end of each platform, and in its middle by a thick circular cylinder and matching platform brace. The lower part of the cylinder disappeared into the murky waters of the pool and was soon lost to sight. At the other end of the bridge, on the other or eastern side of the room, was the mate of the platform where she was now located. It ran off to the left of the end of the bridge and ended in the Central Hub's northeast corner. A single door was located in that corner on the far end of the east wall. That door, Elza knew, led to the Main Pump Room -- a place she might have to visit if the power was down to the system pumps.

Her eyes traced the circuit of the lower half of the Central Hub, taking in every bit of its now abnormally sharp detail. Was it a trick of the poison working in her system, perhaps? Back when the rattlesnake had bitten her, she had become delirious once what venom that hadn't been sucked back out by her dad had really begun to hit her system. Perhaps it was different with this spider's venom, she mused. Maybe it was just another form of delirium. Maybe it was a hallucinogenic, or something worse. There was no way to know.

With her seemingly enhanced vision, Elza noticed that the platform where her body was propped up had undoubtedly once been bigger. In fact, it had run the whole length of the back wall and extended all the way to the northeast and southeast corners. That platform in front of the Main Pump Room was part of the original larger platform. The rest had been cut away and removed, leaving only the sections in front of both doors. Thanks to her now unusually sharp vision, she could clearly see the mounting holes for the support bolts and the discolorations on the wall where the original platform had been mounted. Her eyes now traced a line of boltholes for support brackets that led up from where the southeast corner of the original platform had been to the upper level of the Central Hub. Here too, a braced upper catwalk that had once almost circled the entire room in the same manner as the lower one had been cut back, with most of its middle sections removed. Only two pieces now remained. One section ran the length of the north wall, and sat in front of a door located on the upper level of the Central Hub. She could see part of the door because part of the guardrail for the upper catwalk had been removed directly in front of it. It matched with a piece of high catwalk remaining on the opposite side, on the upper south wall. On its far side was a set of close double doors. They surely led to the Control Room, if she remembered the system map correctly. The boltholes that she had first noticed earlier, and that ran up the wall in the southeast corner, went all the way up from the now-missing lower platform section to the upper one in front of the Control Room doors. Elza suddenly realized she was seeing the traces of a ladder that had once been mounted to the wall ... one that would have given her direct access to the Control Room, had it still been there and had she been in any condition to use it. It wasn't there, and she couldn't move. All she could do was look ... breathe ... and curse her own stupidity.

She had been wrong to try the direct route to the Control Room. The giant spiders had almost killed her in the process and she had used up all of her ammo in fighting them. It had all been for nothing, too. There was no way to get to the Control Room from down here. The only means for doing so had been removed long ago. She was going to have to backtrack, and try the other route ... only ... only ... she couldn't move. She couldn't do anything except sit there, propped up like a rag doll against the wall, unable to do anything if any kind of threat materialized in front of her.. Elza tried to shake her head, tried to fight off the delirium that now seemed to be settling over her like a warm and comforting blanket, but now she found she could no longer even move her head. Her breathing was becoming ragged, and the front of her armor vest moved up and down with each desperate gasp. She watched the slime on the walls seemingly move up and down on its own volition, the ripples of the collection pool turning into choppy waves, her own body heaving and jerking as it strove simply to try to breathe. It was too much. The room was spinning now, and she with it – caught up in a whirling maelstrom of concrete and metal and sewer water, and she was spinning in its center, unable to fight it and unable to claw her way out. There was only one escape, and she had no choice but to take it.

With that, Elza's eyes closed, and her head sunk down on her chest. The top half of her body slumped over, and she half-twisted as she slowly fell over into a tangled sprawl. There were no sounds coming from her now, and the front of her armor vest heaved no more. Elza had fought the good fight, but even she was human – and like any other human in her predicament, she had no choice but to succumb to the inevitable.

\------------------------------

Chapter 11 - Reveal

"I think this is it." Kevin said, staring at the solid metal door in front of them.

"It'd better be," Rita said, coming up alongside him as close as she could on the narrow ledge. "We can't go any farther."

"An' if we go down, we cain't climb back up again," John added, from somewhere behind them both. "Side channel's now too deep."

Rita looked down at the deep trench in the tunnel floor beside them, and shook her head. "Looks like the only way back out would be to stand on someone's shoulders – but whoever was on bottom would be stuck down there."

"Yeah," John said. "And dey cain't go all da way back eeider, because of dose blockin' grates." He pointed at the one at the end of the trench closest to them, then back up the tunnel. "Well ... ya might try climbin' up da grate, and den tryin' ta hop over to da ledge, but I'm too big an' heavy ta try sumfun lak dat."

Rita looked at the grate herself. She shook her head. "I don't know if even I could manage that," she said. "I mean, I could climb up the grate well enough, but it doesn't go high enough for me to even try going for the ledge. Not unless I was a contortonist," she added wryly.

"Let's hope we don't have to mess with any of that," Kevin said. He had been examining the lock on the door. "Rita," he said, "you still got that skeleton key?"

"Just a minute," Rita said. She began rummaging in her pockets. A few seconds later, she was holding it in front of Kevin. "There you go," she said.

Kevin nodded and took it. "Thanks. I think this is were we're supposed to use this," he said, as he stuck it in the lock. A sharp turn and a loud click! later, and the door both unlocked and opened. "Good," Kevin said. "I'm glad that happened, cause I didn't see any handle on this side." He looked back at Rita and John. "Could you guys give me some room? This door opens outward."

"Oh, sorry," Rita said. She took a step backwards – and promptly both bumped into John and stepped on his foot. "Sorry again!" she exclaimed.

John pretened to limp as he backed up. "Ya gots me, Miss Rita," he said with a smile. "Ah'm crippl'd fer life!"

"All right, guys," Kevin said, but he too was smiling. He had lost his impromptu club a couple of rooms and tunnels back, when it had broken in two when he had used it to gut-stab the last zombie he had killed. Now he held his Glock in one hand at the ready, while he yanked the door open with the other. Nothing happened, and nothing leapt out from the room or tunnel beyond to attack him. He waited a few seconds, and then nodded at the others. "Looks like it's safe to go in," he said, as he ducked to get through the low doorway.

"Yeah, but whats about gittin' back out agin?" John muttered, as he followed Rita through the doorway. He too had to duck. Rita might have made it through without ducking, but she had done so too – probably out of an instinctive reaction to the lowness of the uppermost door frame brace.

The three of them found themselves in yet another L-tunnel, of the kind and pattern that had by now become all too familiar to them – and somewhat monotonous in its repetitive regularity of occurrence. There was the expected side walkway – which by now had become a high ledge, due to the depth of the side channel - and there appeared to be a matching ledge and channel at the turn ahead. Only ... it wasn't quite the same. From what they could see at their end, the bottom of the channel running beside the ledge in the L-tunnel leg that started at the turn was higher than the one that ran beside them. It was also on the opposite wall, meaning that its ledge was just opposite of where theirs was located as well. This also made for a clean break in the side ledges, and they were now separated by a gap that was as wide as the deep side channel that ran beside them. They had noticed shallow water in the side channel in the previous tunnel, getting deeper as the bottom of the channel continued its gradual downward slant that had started all the way back at the "T"-corridor, and it here it seemed to be at least ankle-deep ... or maybe shin-deep. It was hard to tell without going down there – but if any of them did, it would be extremely difficult to get that person back up on the high ledge again.

John squinted, staring at the far end of the tunnel. "I doan see no ways out," he finally declared, after a few moments. "Dat's why da water backed up. But why it doan go all da way up to da bottom of dat higher channel down dere, I doan know."

"Evaporation?" Rita offered.

"Not down here," Kevin said. "Feel how humid it is?"

"Ever since we came down here," Rita replied. "You got any ideas?"

"Not a clue," Kevin said. "If Elza was right, that storage room with that keycard we need should be just around that turn. That's all I care about. I don't give a flip where the water goes, just as long as I don't end up drowning in it." He looked again at the end of the tunnel, and then back at his companions. "Looks like we're going to have to jump over to get to it."

"That could get somebody hurt," Rita declared. "A broken leg, or worse, if they miss."

"I gots a better idear," John said. "Let's go ahead an' drop down into dis channel. We kin just climb down until we're hangin' by our hands, and den lets go. It's not dat far if we do that." He pointed at the turn. "See, we kin reach da bottom of dat other channel an' climb up into it if we're down dere, an' from dere we climb on up onto da udder ledge."

"Well, I don't want to get my feet wet," Rita said, "but I guess it had to happen sooner or later. And you're right. It would be easier if we did it that way. Kevin?"

Kevin wasn't saying anything for the moment. He was remembering the last time he had listened to John, and the unintended consequences that had resulted thereby. It was part of the reason why they were now in the fix that they were in. At the same time, though, he couldn't think of a better way save to try jumping over to the other ledge. He knew that he and Rita could probably do it, but he seriously doubted if John could. The man's bulk would work against him, and there was no way to run and gather enough speed if you had to make a sudden sharp turn to the right even as you jumped. He continued to look at the other end of the tunnel as he thought about it some more, and then spoke. "We could just jump down to the lower ledge," he said finally. "Let's go look and see if we can before we try your suggestion, John."

Together, the three of them walked single file down the long and narrow ledge towards the turn in the tunnel. Pipes and cables ran alongside them on the ceiling over the channel, and turned with the tunnel at the far end. About halfway down was a large vent covered by a grate that was high up on the opposite wall, almost even with their shoulders. The vent beyond seemed large enough even for John to climb though – but as the grate covered it completely, and they could not reach it to even try to remove the grate, they simply walked on by. There was another grate at the end where the turn was located, on the far wall that was part of the next leg of the L-tunnel, and that was placed directly above the deeper of the two channels. It too was large enough to crawl through, was completely covered by a grate, and they had no way to reach it given their current situation. Kevin tried not to think about either of those large vents as they reached the turn in the L-tunnel – the same way he tried not to think about all of the other doors and large vents they had passed on their way down here. Any of those might have offered an alternate way out of the deeper and older levels of the Sewers ... but Elza had not mentioned them in consulting the system map, so they obviously were not direct routes, even if any of them did lead to a way out. Best to focus on the here and now and the task at hand, and that was getting the keycard to a door that he knew would lead to a way out ... a way back to the others ... and, hopefully, to freedom and a final escape from Raccoon City.

The three of them now stood at the end of the long and high side ledge, right in the corner of the turn in the L-tunnel. All three of them stared at the new leg of the L-tunnel that was now clearly visible to them. All of its details were now revealed to them in full ... and they had mixed feelings about what they saw.

"Deja vu," Rita finally said, breaking the silence. "Looks kinda like where we came in, doesn't it?" She pointed to the large cantilever door high on the inside wall of the other leg of the L-tunnel, directly above the closer half of its version of the high side ledge. "And there's the door to that other storage room, just like Elza said. It's almost like a mirror image of where we came in down here."

"Not quite," Kevin said. "We had a lot more room to maneuver in there."

"An' doan forget dose giant spiders," John said. "I cain't. Ise hates spiders."

"You keep saying that," Rita said.

"Well? I does!" John said, sounding a bit peeved. "Especially dose big bastahds. I'd hate ta think what would happen to ya if one of dem bit ya."

"I think we've got a pretty good idea, judging from that body we found a ways back," Kevin said. "And I think we're going to have to go with your idea, John, much as I don't want to."

"Why?" Rita said.

"Have you noticed how wet that the bottom of that other channel is?" Kevin said. He pointed, and their eyes followed. The L-tunnel was well lit, and the bottom of the other channel glistened with a watery sheen. "There's been a lot of water in here recently. I'd say it drained through that grate back there," and with that he pointed to the large grate that completely blocked the end of the other leg of the L-tunnel. It was the first such they had encountered that did not have a door inset into one side. "If any of us try to jump down on that ledge, odds are

damn good that our feet are going to slip out under us – and then were right back to breaking a leg again, or worse."

"Well," Rita remarked, "so much for that idea." She sighed. "I'd still like to know why this channel beside us isn't full all the way up to the bottom of that other ledge."

"Mebbe something drank it?" John offered.

Rita made a face. "That's sick. Drinking sewer water?"

"Wouldn't matter to the undead," Kevin offered calmly, "and who knows what else is down here we haven't yet encountered?"

Both of his companions gave a bit of a start at those words, but they covered it well. John slowly looked around the L-tunnel. "Damn, but Ise wish you hadn't said dat," he grumbled. "Now ya got me thinking of dem 'gators agin."

"I don't think there's any down here with us," Kevin said, "or we'd have encountered them by now. If there are, they're out there somewhere," and he pointed to the large grate filling the end of the L-tunnel leg before them. "Maybe those oversized rat-things, or something else. Anyway, who wants to go first?"

"I will," Rita offered. "It's a bit more of a drop for me than you two, and I'd just as soon get it over with."

"In that case, I'll go first," Kevin said promptly, "and that way I can catch you if you slip."

"Showoff," Rita said, but she didn't argue. Behind her, John snickered. "What?" she said, turning and looking at him.

"I think he's jes' looking fer an excuse to git you in his arms again," John said, with a look that strongly hinted of a leer.

"Knock it off," Kevin said, somewhat angrily. He holstered his Glock, made sure his overslung SPAS-12 and other gear were arranged so that they wouldn't hamper him, then begin to climb off the ledge. "As soon as I get down," he said as he moved, "you follow me, Rita. John, you'll be last."

"Ya gonna catch me too, boss?" John chortled.

Kevin was now halfway over the edge of the ledge, but still had a firm enough grip to check himself. He glared at John. Rita made a point of clearing her throat. Kevin quickly checked the angry retort he was about to fire off, then mutttered, "If I have to, yes."

Rita looked over at John, and there was a note of reproof in her voice as she spoke. "You just settle down now, John, and let Kevin do his job – okay? No need for your juvenile commentary. Is that clear?"

Abashed, John looked at the ledge floor. "Yes, Miss Rita," he said quietly.

Kevin shook his head, then resumed letting himself down the side of the ledge. He went until he was hanging only by his fingertips – and then he dropped the rest of the way.

As soon as Kevin's feet splashed into the water at the bottom of the deep channel, the grate on the vent directly above and behind him popped off. It flew over Kevin's head with great force and splashed into the water about a dozen feet beyond where he was now standing in the deep channel. It was immediately

followed by a long pair of leather-like legs – with more legs, a set of oversized mandibles, and multiple eyes right behind them.

"KEVIN!!" Rita yelled, backing up even as John backed up behind her.

Down in the channel, Kevin went for his shotgun while backing away from the end of the channel as fast as the water would let him. John braced himself, his eyes wide but his pipe raised and ready, even as Rita whipped around her shotgun and held it before her. The body of a giant spider emerged from the now-open high vent, being pulled out by its long limbs. At once it began to move down the wall towards the deep channel.

Suddenly there was another metal clang! farther back down the main tunnel, and now the other grate smacked into the wall not less than a half-a-foot away from John's head. It bounced off and back into the trench, rattling on either side as it bounced back and forth on its way down. John took one look at the vent across from him, and then instinctively yelped as he saw multiple sets of eyes staring back at him. His eyes went wide with fear, and he yelped again even as he spun around to face this newest threat. The second giant spider emerged from the other now-opened vent as rapidly as had the first, its long legs waving in the air before they locked down on the walls and ceiling beneath them. Just as rapidly as had the first, the second giant spider began skittering upside-down and across the ceiling and directly towards the big man on the ledge.

* * * * *

"She's awake! Miss Elza?!?!"

"Miss Walker?"

Elza's eyes popped open. She was lying stretched out full length on her stomach on top of one of the tables in the Sewers Break Room. Her armor vest, jacket, and t-shirt had all been removed, leaving her with nothing topside but her sports bra to protect her modesty. Her biker boots had also both been removed, as well as the sock from the foot on her injured leg. Her firesuit pants leg had been rolled up a bit so that the spot where the giant female spider had bit her was exposed – rather, it would have been for the fresh bandage that had been put over the wound. Elza could feel fresh wrappings around her shoulders, chest, and waist that told of similar additional bandages covering the smaller bites up there – as well as her lower right arm, which had been the only one scored by the smaller spiders. She started to try to sit up, but Sherry was on her before she barely had time to move. The little girl had hopped up on the nearest chair and almost onto the table with her – such was her enthusiasm at seeing her alive and whole. She was doing her best to hug Elza, and that was rather difficult given the way Elza was lying on the table. Elza did not complain, nor did she mention the dull pain coming from those parts of her body where Sherry was in contact – or of the sharp pains whenever she rubbed up against one of the still-sore smaller spider bites. She remained silent for Sherry's sake, and she was glad she did. The little girl was almost on the verge of tears.

"Oh, Miss Elza!" Sherry cried, trying to hug her as best she could. "We thought you were dead! But Miss Linda said you were still breathing, and needed help, so we dragged you back in here, an' then she treated you!"

"Welcome back," Linda said flatly. She was standing next to the table beside Elza. On the table beside her were their first aid supplies, as well as a few additional items Elza recognized as coming from the personal lockers at the back of the room. Linda smiled sardonically down at Elza. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, with a hint of sarcasm. "Are we in the way?"

Elza shook her head. "Not at all," she murmured, then breathed deeply. "How long was I out?"

"About a half-hour from the time we found you," Linda said.

"That's all?" Elza asked.

Linda did not answer her. Instead, she produced one of Novak's prepared herbal vials. This one's powder was solid green. "I want you to take this with some water," she said, "and I also want you to eat that last Snickers bar in our foodstuffs. All of it, Miss Walker. You need the sugar right now, as well as the energy from the carbs."

"I'll go get the water," Sherry said. She hugged Elza one last time, then hopped down from the table.

Elza took the green vial, then slowly rolled over onto her side. Her body ached all over, and it was especially sore in all the places where the spiders had bit her. She smiled as she heard the water tap in the room come on as Sherry poured a glass of water for her. She looked at the bandage on her leg, and then at Linda. "I thought I was a goner," she said.

Linda reached over to a nearby chair, where Elza's things were piled, even as Elza slowly and carefully sat up. She rummaged for a bit, and when she came back up she held an empty and capless herbal vial. "We found this next to you," Linda said. "You must have taken it shortly before you passed out."

Elza thought for a moment, and then shook her head. "I can't remember doing that," she said.

"It's a good thing you did," Linda said, as she put the empty vial back. "If you hadn't, you'd be dead right now."

"Tell me about it," Elza murmured. "That spider venom is powerful stuff. Hit me even harder than that rattlesnake that bit me, once it began to take hold."

Linda pursed her lips. "Do you remember me warning you about that venom? Well, I got a good look at those spiders you killed. I know how much venom a normal venomous spider has – so scaling up from there and judging from the number and size of bites on you, I'd say you took at least twenty times a normal lethal dose, probably much more. That's assuming, of course, that the venom of these giant spiders works the same as regular ones." She shook her head. "I'm amazed you stayed on your feet as long as you did before all of that finally hit you."

Elza remained still for a moment, taking in Linda's words. She then smiled. "Hat's off to Umbrella," she said, and tried to put a cheerful lilt in her voice. "Those herbs of theirs saved my life."

Linda was about to reply when Sherry trotted up. In one hand she carefully carried a styrofoam coffee cup full of water. In the other was the candy bar. "Here you go," she said, as she offered them both to Elza.

"Thanks," Elza said. She took both the water and the candy bar from Sherry, then moved around and swang both of her legs off of the table edge so she could sit in something close to a normal position.

"You're welcome," Sherry said. She was practically beaming with joy. She said nothing else, but simply stood there – her hands tucked behind her back, slowly rocking back and forth on her heels, and smiling all the while as Elza quaffed the green vial, drank the water, and ate the candy bar.

It didn't take long for Elza to finish. She had not realized just how hungry and thirsty she had become. As soon as she finished, Sherry stuck out her hands for the cup and wrapper. Elza smiled and let her have them. As she went to throw them away, Elza looked over at Linda. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck," she declared, "and that it decided to back up and run over me again a few more times just for good measure."

"You'll be feeling like yourself in just a few minutes," Linda observed. "As we discussed earlier, the recovery process is fairly rapid once those herbs start to kick in. I had the feeling you'd want to get back up on your feet as soon as possible."

"I'll say," Elza answered. She slowly slid off of the edge of the table and then carefully moved to the nearest empty chair. Even as she settled into her new seat, Linda was already bringing over her things. She put them on front of the table in front of Elza, who immediately began to dress herself as soon as Linda got out of her way. She started with her lone removed sock, speaking as she went. "I don't know about you, but I think it's high time we get outta here."

"Easier said than done," Linda said. She was gathering up their supplies and doing her best to fit all of them into a small duffel bag she had retrieved from one of the lockers. "I got a good look at the Central Hub while Sherry and I were figuring out how to get you back in here. I don't see any way up to the Control Room."

"There isn't," Elza said, "at least not directly. We'll have to go the long way around to get to it. The map on the computer is wrong. That ladder it shows must have been taken out whenever they rebuilt the room."

"So why didn't they change the system map?"

Elza shrugged. "Why should they? Computer system and software upgrades are expensive and can take time – especially whenever you're dealing with industrial systems that are meant to stay in place with as little maintenance as possible over long periods of time. Usually by the time those need to be worked on, they're obsolete pieces of software running on obsolete hardware. Any upgrade you try to do usually ends up being a partial or sometimes almost total replacement of what's there – so whatever you can leave alone or in place, you do. Take those system maps, for example. Everyone who works down here knows the general layout, and that's all they need to show. The fact that small parts of the insides of a given room or tunnel have changed really doesn't matter, unless they've done something that directly affects the way the Sewers work. That's why they probably haven't updated the system maps."

Linda thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Makes sense. But how do you know about such things?"

"I've had some boyfriends who are into computers, and a lot of it rubbed off," Elza said. "I'm glad it did. Proved very handy once I graduated and started college."

Elza's own mention of her being a college student gave Linda an opening, and she took it – although this time she tried to be as careful and tactful as possible. "So I take it you weren't an 'A' student."

Elza laughed, even as she finished adjusting the straps on her biker boots. "Hell, no. I'm a farm girl, a biker chick from the sticks. I was doing good just to be an 'A' and 'B' student in high school." She chuckled at a pleasant memory. "Oh, the times Claire and Chrissy, and even Dana and Mary had to come over and help me study! It was always so hard for me, and so easy for them."

"I'll bet you were surprised when you got that scholarship."

Elza's head popped through the neck of her t-shirt. She sat still for a moment, regarding Linda, then pulled it on down and finished adjusting and tucking it in. "Yes ... I was," she finally said, "but not for the reasons you might expect. And in case you're still wondering," and with this her voice took on a bit of an edge, "I didn't have to sleep with old man Spencer to get it. That's probably the worst of all the many rumors I've heard told about my being accepted into the University's Gifted and Talented Program – and believe me, I've heard plenty. The simple truth is that it was a freely given gift, that Mr. Spencer was being extremely generous to someone like me, and I took it. As the saying goes, 'Never look a gift horse in the mouth.'" She reached for her new jacket and picked it up, then stopped to again regard Linda. There was look of warning in her eyes as she spoke, but she kept her tone conversational. "Look, this is something that's personal, and I'd rather not talk about it. I've told you all I care to tell you about that particular event in my life, and that's that. Now can we get a move on? We need to figure out what we're going to do next."

Linda nodded, saying nothing. Both she and Sherry continued to watch Elza as she donned the last of her gear. "Perhaps," Linda mused to herself, "but you're still not telling the whole story. No simple 'A' and 'B' student gets one of Mr. Spencer's Gifted and Talented scholarships – and it's Mr. Spencer himself who picks who gets those, not some subordinate or hired lackey. He wants to recruit only the best for Umbrella – but he seems to have made an unusual exception in your case. No ... there's more here than meets the eye, and your refusal to tell the whole story I find most peculiar." She took in a deep breath and let it out, even as Elza finished putting on and readjusting her armor vest. "And if I ever get the chance, Miss Walker," she continued to herself, "I'm going to find out just what it is you're trying to hide."

* * * * *

BLAM!!!

Kevin's SPAS-12 roared as the RPD officer fired point-blank at the giant spider coming at him. The thing was fast, damn fast, almost fast enough to get out of the way, but not quite. It made an unearthly squeal as three of its legs disintegrated near their base joints, their sections between the body and the first leg joint blown to smithereens. It spun and slid to one side, other legs flailing, as Kevin jinked out of the way. He was smarting and bleeding from a number of places, where shotgun pellets had ricocheted from the trench walls and hit him. Everywhere he had been hit by those pellets hurt like hell; nevertheless, he was still intact, whole, and mobile – and he was definitely moving right now, as far away from the wounded spider as the other one would let him.

WHACK!

The second spider dropped from the ceiling all the way to the bottom of the side trench, legs flailing, and hit with a satisfyingly loud SMACK! flat on its back. Directly above it, standing on the high ledge with his long pipe fully extended at the limit of a broad and strong swing, was John. He had the look on his face of a man who has had to face his worst nightmare, and in the worst possible way. There had only been enough time for him to swing as hard as he could, hoping that he would somehow hit the thing. As it was, being less than a yard from his face when the end of the pipe connected with its body and sent it flying, he couldn't have missed even if he had tried.

Rita ignored John for the time being. She was moving up and down the ledge, sweeping the trench below with her own shotgun, and trying to get a clear shot at the wounded spider near Kevin. She could see that he was bleeding from several small wounds, and guessed that he had been hit by the ricochet from the blast of his own shotgun. He had shot it too close, and in too confined an area, but it wasn't as if he had been given any choice in the matter. After one good look at the situation below, she quickly set aside her shotgun and pulled her pistol instead. This way, she'd have a better chance of hitting that thing without hitting Kevin, too.

BLAM!

Rita looked around. John was at the edge of the trench now. He had dropped his pipe and unlimbered his hunting rifle, which he now held almost straight down as he aimed at the fallen second spider in the trench. Fresh smoke was coming from the end of the barrel. He worked the bolt, and a spent shell casing flew free, bouncing onto the high ledge. It bounced two more times and then finally came to rest – but by then John had fired again.

BLAM!

The second spider far below John at the bottom of the side trench finally stopped moving. It let out one final, long, dying wail as its long legs drooped, splayed in all directions. Some were propped up against the sides of the trench, while others had fallen over into the water beyond its lifeless body, their tips no longer visible beneath its murky surface. John let out a staggered breath as he leaned back against the wall. His eyes were now closed and his forehead was bathed in sweat. Had he been clenching his rifle any tighter, and had he been stronger, he would have broken it in two. "Ise ... hates ... SPIDAHS!!!" he muttered, his revulsion evident in his voice.

BLAM-BLAM!

Rita had finally found her chance at a clean shot at the wounded spider near Kevin, and she took it. He had turned and ran down the trench towards the dying second spider, but had stopped and turned again once John had begun shooting from above. The space that he had opened up between himself and the first spider was enough. Rita fired twice, and her well-trained marksman skills meant that both shots went home. The wounded spider spun in place as both shots went through its head, its remaining legs flailing wildly and sewer water splashing everywhere. After a few seconds, the commotion on both ends of the side trench died down. Both spiders were dead – and thankfully, no more followed them through and out either of the high vents.

"Kevin!" Rita called, as she saw Kevin suddenly stop and lean against the nearest wall. He had put a gloved hand up to one side of his face, and there was blood on his palm as it came down. She ran down the ledge until she was right across from him, then got down on her hands and knees at the edge of the high ledge. "Kevin!" she called again. "Are you all right?"

"Hell, no!" came the strong-voiced reply. Kevin turned his head and looked up at Rita. It was pockmarked with a half-a-dozen grooved cuts on his right cheek and forehead, and there were small splats of blood on his right side and shoulder. "I"m damn lucky, that's what I am. Could've put my eye out, firing my shotgun that close to a stone wall."

"Oh, Kevin!" Rita exclaimed. She was so happy that she was on the verge of tears.

"How's John?" came Kevin's voice from the bottom of the trench.

Rita looked down the high ledge. John hadn't moved an inch from the last time she had seen him during the spider fight. He still tightly gripped his hunting rifle, but his hands were now visibly shaking. Rita could also see that his face had turned pale. "Looks like he's in shock," she said. "I better go help him. You gonna be all right?"

"I can manage," Kevin said. He had whipped out a small cloth from one of his pockets and was holding up to the side of his face, trying to stop the bleeding. "You go see about John. I'm gonna climb on up into the other tunnel leg and get that storeroom open."

"All right," Rita answered. She heard Kevin begin to slosh back down to the turn in the tunnel even as she turned the other way, and walked up to John. He still hadn't moved an inch, and now she could hear him mumbling under his breath.

"God ... damn ... God ... spidahs ... Ise ... hates ....spidahs .. damn—"

Rita carefully and gently laid a hand on one of the big man's shoulders. "John?"

The man started visibly. He blinked, looked wildly past her, then settled down at once when he saw who was standing before him. "Miss Rita! Ise sorry ...." He lowered his rifle at once, and then drew a sweaty hand across his sweaty forehead. "Ise jes'— I mean—"

"It's all right," Rita said reassuringly. "Something to do with the spiders, right?"

John nodded and gulped. "Back when we was still kids, mah bruddah Robert played a mean trick on me. He caught an' put a big-ass spidah on mah stummik while I wuz asleep, den woke me up. It was jes' a prank, but it scared me shitless. I panicked, an' when I did, da damn thing bit me afore I could kill it." He shuddered. "Robert gots a whoopin' for dat, and gots grounded, too. Oh, we event'lly made up – we is brothers, you know – but I ain't nevah forgot wakin' up

an' seeing that damn spidah's face rite in mine." He shuddered. "Jes' now, it was like dat wuz happ'nin' all overs agin, ya know?"

Rita made a point of smiling. "Well, you got it – and this time, it didn't bite you, either. That's all that matters, isn't it?" She motioned with her head towards the other end of the ledge. "C'mon. Let's go catch up with Kevin."

By the time the two of them reached the end of the high ledge, Kevin was already up on the high side ledge of the other L-tunnel and was walking back towards them. He had pulled down and put away the cloth Rita had seen him holding to the side of his face earlier. She again noticed the half-dozen or so bloody gouges cut into the right side of his face from the ricocheting shotgun pellets, but all of these had stopped bleeding and had started to scab over. "There's no way through that grate at the end of the tunnel," he said as he approached. "Looks like it's one solid piece. That door back there, though, the one to the storage room, just happens to be unlocked." He now stopped his walk at the edge of the ledge in his end of the tunnel, stared at them for a moment, then cocked his head. "Don't you guys want to come on over?"

"Oh! Sorry," Rita said. "C'mon, John."

"Here – lemme help ya, Miss Rita," John said, as Rita began to climb down from the high ledge.

Kevin did as he had promised earlier. He climbed back down into the side channel and positioned himself so that he was directly below her. When she let go of her hands and dropped, he actually caught her before her feet hit the water. Almost immediately he slung her over his shoulder and moved across the channel towards the bottom of the higher channel in that leg of the L-tunnel.

"Kevin!" Rita exclaimed. "Put me down! This is embarrassing!"

"As soon as we're there," Kevin said. Two seconds later, she was standing on her feet in the higher trench of the other tunnel and glaring down at him. She made a show of shaking her fist at him. "When this is over, Mister Ryman, I'm going to kick your ass!"

"Is that a promise?" Kevin quipped, grinning up at her. "I didn't know you were into that sort of thing."

"Why YOU--!!!" Rita exclaimed. Their eyes locked for a moment, and their shared mirth flowed between them. "You bastard," she finally said, in a much lower tone of voice but with just enough amusement in it not to be insulting.

"So I've been told," Kevin said, still grinning. He now turned back towards the high ledge. "Hand me her shotgun first," he told John, "and anything else that needs to be carried over."

"Rite, boss," John said. Within a couple of minutes, he had shuttled over Rita's shotgun, his own iron pipe and hunting rifle, and the backpack.

"All right, John, now it's your turn," Kevin said, looking up at the man, "but don't expect me to catch you. You're too heavy for that."

"Bettah stand back den," John said, "or you mite git even more wet den ya already are."

Kevin did as John suggested, and moved well back. A few seconds later, and with a tremendous splashing of the shallow water of the deep channel, John dropped down from the high ledge. He landed on his feet, but his momentum carried his body down almost into a crouch. He was back up on his feet in a split second with a surprised squeal. "Damn, but dat's cold!" he exclaimed as he turned to look at Kevin.

"Don't land on your ass next time you jump into it," Kevin quipped.

"Ise didn't," John mumbled. He looked at himself helplessly, then at Kevin. "Doan s'ppose dere's a washin' macheen down here anywheres, ya think?"

"Nope," Kevin said. "We're just going to have to wait until we dry out – and we'll just have to keep on stinkin' until we get somewhere that has one."

Soon enough, the two men had joined Rita on the side ledge. Together the three of them walked single file to the storeroom door – Kevin in the lead, with Rita next and John last, weapons in hand and ready. Kevin opened the door, looked in and around, then back and nodded. Together the three went inside, closing the door behind them.

* * * * *

Elza, Linda, and Sherry were walking through the long, straight corridor that led to the Central Hub, surveying the carnage that had been wrought by Elza in her fight with the giant spiders. The place looked like a war zone, with dead spiders large and small, assorted body parts, and splatterings of various assorted internals and liquids scattered everywhere. Sherry looked like she was going to be sick, but somehow she managed to hold it in and keep a straight upper lip. Linda, on the other hand, did not – and the other two slowed as she leaned against the nearest wall and commenced the dry heaves. They had already seen and smelled the pile of vomit she had left in her earlier trip through there, when she and Sherry were retrieving the wounded and unconscious Elza. As for Elza herself, she walked on a little bit farther until she was standing beside the remains of the giant female spider. She reached down with one hand and grabbed at something, then pulled. As Sherry watched, and while the sound of Linda's retching echoed around them, Elza pulled her knife from the body before her. It had been buried up to the hilt in the spider's head, and its blade was covered in the creature's blood and other effluvia. She calmly wiped her knife clean on the nearest fairly intact leg segment, then re-inserted it into her boot sheath. The sound of retching finally stopped behind them, and Elza looked back at Linda. "I'm surprised you made it back through here with me, given how sick you must have been," Elza said.

Linda smiled weakly back at Elza, both of her arms wrapped around her stomach. "I threw up the first time through. On the way back, while I had you by the shoulders and Sherry the ankles, I did my best to hold my breath and not look the whole way. I didn't throw up again until we made it back into the L-tunnel – but I did it in the channel that time."

"How did you get me across?" Elza asked. "I'm not wet. That must have been quite a feat."

Linda's smile was stronger this time. "I broke down one of the folding tables in the Break Room, and we dragged you across that. I then brought it back in and set it back up once we had you inside."

Elza nodded. Sometimes, she mused, on rare occasions, it seemed that even Linda could muster up a pleasant surprise or two. It was nice to know that she was capable of both being resourceful and actually doing something now and then – when she wasn't being scared shitless or sticking her nose into other people's business. Like that medical aid she had provided, and twice now. It was probably part of her job training for her position at Umbrella, but even so .... Elza had the distinct impression that had this been a normal crisis situation, instead of a freakin' zombie apocalypse, then Linda would have been a very valuable member of their group indeed.

Sherry stared down at the body of the dead spider, then up at Elza. There was obvious awe in her voice as she spoke. "You killed that monster with a knife?"

"Only after I had emptied my last clip into it," Elza said, and shrugged. "It was all I had left."

Sherry looked at Elza, then at the spider, then down at Elza's knife. "That's a big knife," she finally declared.

Elza chuckled. "Actually it's not mine. It's my dad's. Well, he gave it to me, once I was old enough to use it and be responsible for it. Said he won it in a card game from a Green Beret back when he was in the Army, and stationed as a motor pool mechanic in Saigon – although even now I have trouble believing that particular story of his." She shrugged. "First Dad and then Chris taught me the right way to use it. I'm glad they did. It's turned out to be my best friend on more than one occasion."

"Golly," Sherry said. She looked down at the body again. "I wish I could do that."

"Maybe someday you will," Elza said, smiling at Sherry. "Let's go see what's in the next room, shall we?"

A few seconds later, Elza once again found herself standing on the platform in front of the double doors that opened onto the Central Hub. The room seemed somewhat dimmer than she remembered it, but that was no doubt due to the overly heightened sensations and impressions caused during her first visit – when according to Linda, her blue herb enhanced metabolism had been fighting enough spider venom to kill her twenty times over. If the vision was not as as sharp - abnormally sharp, as during that previous visit - then this time around she had a clear and focused mind in order to take in, process, and analyze everything she saw. The other two came through the open double doorway and stood beside her as she studied the Central Hub once again, trying not to miss any detail that might help them.

It was Linda who broke the silence. "You were saying something about having to come back in here the long way around to get up there to the Control Room?" she said, gesturing towards the double doors on the upper level.

"Yes," Elza said. She pointed to the high platform to their left, the one opposite of the one with the Control Room door. "The system map says we can come in up there by skirting around the edge of the West Tank, where the North Canal drains, and then come in through a side tunnel."

"There's still the little matter of getting from one platform to the other," Linda said, "and that's too far to jump."

"We don't have to jump at all," Elza said. "The solution's right in front of us."

"Where?" Linda said, looking around. "I don't see it."

Elza smiled. "Sherry," she said, "do you see it?"

The little girl pondered for a moment, then smiled. "I think so, Miss Elza."

"Then will you tell Miss Linda, please?"

In response, Sherry pointed to the bridge in front of them. "It's the bridge."

"But ... but that's silly," Linda said. "Are you telling me that ...." Her voice trailed off as she looked at the bridge more closely. After a while, she said, "Oh – now I see what you're talking about."

Elza held up both of her hands in parallel, palms down, and one higher than the other. "What we've have here is a lifting bridge that can turn in the required direction as needed, depending on the level to which it is raised or lowered. That big cylinder beneath it is probably an oversized hydraulic piston, and it spins the bridge as it goes up, kinda like a giant screw." She worked her hands as she spoke, keeping the high hand steady while turning the lower hand as she raised it up. By the time she had both hands even, she had turned the once-lower hand so that it was perpendicular to the original high hand and just touching it with its fingertips. She reversed the action of her hands, as if to emphasize the point she was making. "That's why they removed the ladder and cut back the long platforms that were originally in here. The spinning bridge acts both as accessway and security feature, allowing easy access whenever it's set and preventing access when it isn't. You could probably even use it as a direct lift for a full replacement of that old ladder, riding it up without ever having to leave the Central Hub."

Linda nodded. "I see what you mean," she said.

"Miss Elza?" Sherry asked.

"What is it?" Elza answered.

"How do we make the bridge spin and go up?"

Elza sighed. "That, Miss Birkin, is the sixty-four thousand dollar question – because I don't see a control box in here anywhere, or from what I can see down here of the upper platforms, either."

"What about this?" Linda said, pointing to a long cylinder attached to the front railing of the platform on which they stood.

"I thought of that," Elza said. "It's probably a manual control for some kind of wheel or handle, so you can work the bridge by hand. See that inset large hex head? I wish we had that crank handle Kevin snagged back when we were at the RPD, because we could definitely use it here. That is of course, if both the end of the crank and that socket are the same hex size." She shook her head. "They've got that crank with them, though, and I don't recall seeing a handwheel anywhere since we came down here."

"That means having to work the bridge from somewhere else," Linda offered. "The Control Room?"

"Probably," Elza said. "Which means we still gotta go the long way around to get there. Yet there has to be another way to turn that bridge somewhere - another set of controls, or perhaps a spare handwheel - because if we don't get this bridge up somehow, then we're going to have to figure out a way to fly across those upper platforms – and you know what?" she added, looking across the room at the lower platform and door on the other end of the bridge, "I've got a good idea of where to start looking." She held out her hand to Linda. "My pistol, please."

Linda stared at her for a moment, then the realization hit her. "Oh," she said. "Sorry." She fished around in her jacket pockets for a moment, then drew out both Elza's SiG Sauer P228 from one pocket and her two fully loaded spare ammo clips from the other. She handed them to Elza, who nodded as she took them. "It's better you have them anyway," Linda said, as Elza stowed the clips in two of her empty armor vest pouches and swapped the pistol for her now-empty MAC-11 in her leg holster. She handed the autopistol to Linda, who stuck it in one of her larger jacket pockets without comment.

"I need 'em," Elza said, as she finished readjusting her leg holster for the smaller pistol. "What I gave you before my big spider fight is all the ammo we have left right now. Let's just hope I don't use all of it in the Main Pump Room over there."

She felt a tug on one side and looked down. Sherry stood there, her face troubled, and with her eyes full of worry. "You're not going to get hurt again, are you?" she asked.

Elza smiled, and then tousled the little girl's hair. "Not if I can help it, hon," she said. She then looked at Linda. "I want you two to stay out here until I give the all-clear. Better yet, you need to go back to the Break Room."

"If we do that," Linda pointed out, "we might be too far away to get to you in time if something happens."

"True," Elza nodded. She didn't point out that Linda was trying to be brave in her own way, volunteering to wait for her even though she wasn't armed anymore. She just accepted it and went on. Elza now unholstered her newly reacquired pistol, worked the slide so that a round was chambered, then started across the bridge. "You two just stay there, then, until I call for you or come back out. And no playing with any spiders, either. Got it?"

Linda made no reply. Sherry simply watched, as the young woman whom she was beginning to like more and more briskly walked across the bridge and onto the platform that led to the Main Pump Room door.

* * * * *

Kevin and Rita were alone in the small storage room above the last leg of the L-tunnel that had been their goal. Kevin had doffed the top of his SWAT fatigues and his undershirt at Rita's insistence, and was now sitting still on top of the sole crate in the room while she worked at his many buckshot wounds on his upper right side. Almost all of them were shallow, and most had been simple grazes, but there had been almost a dozen places where the shot had buried itself under the skin. "You'll get infected if all that lead stays in there," Rita had stated. "Best I get 'em out now while I can, before any infection takes hold." Kevin hadn't argued, and had done what he was told. He knew that Rita had good medical training in her background, and that the cute new young paramedic that was now with RPD STARS - Rebecca Chambers, whom Rita had befriended as she did everyone else - had updated Rita's knowledge by sharing her own. This meant that he was in the best hands possible given their situation. The fact that their medical supplies were meager and Rita's tools were crude - a long thin piece of wire scavenged from the nearby storage shelves and Kevin's own pocketknife, long blade fully extended, and both cleaned with first aid spray and simple spit - didn't bother him in the slightest. Kevin had absolute confidence in Rita. He had seen her use her extended first aid skills before in normal times, and knew she was doing the best she could with what she had. Even now he was joking with her about it. "So how's it going, medicine woman?" he quipped.

For that, he felt a sharp and somewhat painful jab in the abdomen with the wire. "Enough of the Dr. Quinn wisecracks," Rita replied. "I've got all but two of 'em out now, but they're in the deepest. I'm gonna have to dig a bit, and it's gonna hurt. Don't say that I didn't warn you."

John had left the room almost as soon as Rita had announced her intentions. When asked why, he had only grinned and said, "I gots ta go water da flowers. Think I'll take a smoke, too, an' try ta figger out how we's gonna get back outta here." That last bit was legitimate enough – in fact, figuring out how all three of them were going to get back up on that high ledge again and get back out, now that they had the keycard they needed, was an ever-present puzzle lurking at the back of Rita's and Kevin's minds. As for John's real reason for leaving them alone together, well ... even someone as simple-minded as John could see the opportunity at hand. He probably figured he was doing them both a favor – and although Rita would never say it aloud, she thought it was one of the nicest things yet that the big lunk had done for them.

Kevin involuntarily flinched as he felt the point of the pocketknife's long blade dig deep into his upper arm. He did not cry out, however, and quickly re-steeled himself – trying to hold as still as possible so as not to force Rita into making a bad move with the knife. "Sorry," he said.

"That's okay," she answered, working intently and not looking at him. "I'd have been yelling long before now. It's amazing how you do that – shut the pain out, that is."

"Oh, I'm not shutting it out," Kevin said through gritted teeth, as the knife dug a little deeper. "I'm just ignoring it as much as possible. Old Indian trick."

"I didn't know you were an Indian," Rita said.

"I'm not," Kevin said. "Don't even have any Indian blood in me. But I had lots of friends back in New Mexico who were Indians, and I learned more than a few things from them when I was growing up."

"Well that's good," Rita said, and now she looked at him, "because this next one's gonna really hurt. Hang on."

Kevin bit his lower lip as pain shot through his arm. He could feel the point of the knife as Rita probed for the last piece of buckshot. Every one of the knife's movements seemed magnified, almost to the point where he could half-imagine that she had impaled his arm with it and was both twisting its haft and moving it up and down at the same time. He tried hard to defocus his mind, just as his Indian friends from days gone by had tried to teach him – but suddenly the first pain was joined by another just as sharp, and Kevin groaned in spite of himself.

"Hang on," Rita said. "Sorry. I found it, but it's in there deep. I'm literally having to dig it out. Just a little more ... hang on ... almost ... there!" She quickly laid down her improvised tools, grabbed the rag she had been using for cleaning, and pressed it onto Kevin's upper arm. "Bandages, please, and hurry. It's bleeding like hell."

Kevin reached over with his uninjured arm and grabbed a wrapped sterile pad and the roll of gauze from their medical supplies. Rita had been using simple Band-Aids large and small before now on his wounds, but apparently this one was going to require more. She took the roll of gauze from him, but left him with the sterile pad. "You'll have to open it for me," she said. "I have to keep pressure on this big cut I've made." Kevin nodded as he transferred the wrapped pad to the hand on his immobilized arm, then used his hand on the other to open it. He then pulled out the pad and handed it to her. "Thanks," Rita said. She quickly removed the rag and slapped the sterile pad on the wound with one smooth motion, then just as quickly snatched up the gauze and began wrapping it around both pad and arm. She wasn't fast enough, however, for Kevin to notice how quickly the center of the pad had turned red before she had wrapped over it. A few more turns followed, and she was done. "That'll hold, I think," she said. "Now, one more thing." She reached over him and rummaged through their supplies. Kevin couldn't help but think of how close she was, and how totally unprofessional of him it would be to reach out and put his arms around her. It was the wrong thing to think in the wrong place and at the wrong time, but he thought it anyway. Even as he did so, however, she leaned back. She had in her hand one of Novak's green herbal vials, and she now held it in front of his face. "This'll help speed the healing process," she said, then grinned. "Now be a good little boy and take your medicine."

Kevin regarded her for a moment, then took the vial. He uncapped it, looked at her again, then swallowed its contents whole. He coughed once he was done. "I don't care if it is good for me," he spluttered, "it still tastes like shit."

Rita sighed. "Is that so? Then I take it you don't want the rest of your medicine."

"Huh?" Kevin settled down at once, looking at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

Rita looked at him, her face unreadable. "Are you done talking?"

Kevin looked himself over. "Yeah, I guess so," he said. "Why?"

With that, Rita leaned in, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

It was an action that Kevin did not expect or suspect in the slightest. He was caught completely by surprise. After a while, though, slowly and hesitantly, he reached up and put his arms around her, then gently pulled her in so that she was half-sitting and half-reclining on his lap. She did not resist his actions, and actually seemed to welcome it when he returned the kiss.

Rita was the first to break away. Their faces were now quite close, and both spoke in low and hushed tones. "This is totally inappropriate, you know," she said, her face somewhat flushed and her voice edging on the husky.

"You started it," Kevin pointed out – but gently, and with a half-smile on his own face.

"So I did," Rita said. She glanced down for a moment, then back up at him. "I'd like to do more, only this isn't the time or the place."

Kevin nodded. "Agreed on both points," he said.

"I wanted to at least do that, though," Rita said. Her face had a strange expression on it as she looked into his eyes. "We may not live long enough to do anything else, and I wanted you to know that ... well ... that I think I'm falling in love with you, Kevin Ryman."

Kevin didn't say anything. He only nodded, still holding her in his arms as she continued to speak.

"I mean," Rita said, "we've been friends for a long time, ever since you moved here and joined the force and all, and maybe it's because of the Outbreak, and us being together, and also being the only survivors from the new station and all but ... no, it's not just that. Kevin Jackson Ryman, you have been a decent and honest guy ever since I've known you. Oh, there are times you been sarcastic to the point of being a true smartass, but deep down I know you're always trying to make a point – even if you don't say or do it very well. And I only guessed then, but I can see now, that you always try to do the right thing. Sometimes it gets you in trouble and you wind up going off half-cocked, and then you really get into trouble – but I know you mean well. Even when things don't go right, and even when you have to do something you really don't want to do, you do it anyway. That makes for a real man in my book ... a man I could come to know ... and love."

Again Kevin nodded. He still didn't say anything. He sensed that the best thing to do right now was to let her talk, and enjoy the moment while they had it – as she had just pointed out. He too had been sensing his own feelings grow for Rita, but he had also attributed it to them having to work so close together due to the Outbreak. With this admission, though, he knew that their relationship was poised on the threshold of an all-new level – one that he wanted very much to cross. That's why he kept quiet, and just held her, while she finished saying what she needed to say.

"All of this has been so terrible, Kevin," Rita went on, "and yet you haven't let it get to you. Oh, you've had your moments - first with Elza, and later with John - but through all of this, you've always tried to do the right thing. You've always tried to act in a way and do what needed to be done for all our sakes, and not just your own. You're becoming a real leader, Kevin – a man who can make hard decisions when he has to because he has to. I just wanted you to know that, and that I love you for that. And ..." and here she choked back a sob, "I wanted to let you know that I also know about Darcy."

Kevin felt his arms stiffen at the mention of Darcy Powell's name. She had been Rita's best friend on the force since coming to Raccoon City; that is, until the Outbreak. She had disappeared with her partner answering a trouble call across town on the very first day of the Outbreak, and hadn't been seen again until just a few hours ago – when her zombie had shown up as part of the undead mob that had attempted to storm the new RPD station, right before Kevin and Rita and the late Harry Weems had fled. That was then, though, and this was now. Rita felt the sudden tenseness in Kevin's arms and she looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes, and it seemed as if Rita was about to cry. Kevin looked away from her, gnawing at his lip and trying to find the right words to say. At last he found some. He wasn't sure they were the right ones, but they were the only ones he could think of. "I wasn't going to tell you," he admitted. "I thought it would be for the best."

"I know," Rita said, and her voice quavered as she spoke. "I figured that's what it was. But I saw Darcy's body from the back of the van as we high-tailed it away from the new station. That's when I knew what happened, and why you had to shoot her."

Kevin was still grasping for words. The memory of that event was something he had hoped never to relive, and here he was doing it again for the one person who might be the most hurt by it. "When she came through the gate ... when the zombies stormed the new station ... and she staggered in behind them ... well ... at first I thought – no, I hoped, she was all right—"

"She'd been missing ever since the Outbreak went down, Kevin," Rita said, drawing close to him.

"—and I saw her there, and could see what had happened to her yet refusing to accept it ... well ...." Now he looked at her, and she could see the anguish in his face. "I didn't want to do it, Rita – but I had no choice. She attacked me, along with the rest – and there was nothing else I could do ... nothing at all ...."

Rita breathed deeply, then leaned her head in until they were touching foreheads. She also began to gently rub the back of one of his shoulders with one hand. "Kevin ... Darcy was already dead. What you saw was her zombie. It wasn't her."

"She was your best friend, Rita—"

"She was dead long before you killed that thing that claimed her body and uniform. I can live with that. I know she would have, and that's the truth. You didn't kill Darcy. You only killed her zombie ... and I ..." and with that the tears began to flow, "... and I forgive you, Kevin."

With that, she clasped Kevin tightly and began to cry. Kevin didn't say anything. He just held her, moving one hand across her back and lower shoulders in a gentle massage while holding tight to her with the other. It was a while before she could speak.

"I'm not as strong as I look, Kevin," Rita sobbed, "and so much has happened. The Outbreak ... the others ... the new station ... the old one ... Darcy ... Raymond ... Aaron ... Eric ... Vince ... Tony ... Jane ... Maria ... Roy ... Chief Clemmons ... Marvin ... *sob* ... and Harry ... oh, God, poor Harry ...."

"Ssssshhhh," Kevin said, as the weeping Rita nestled her head in his shoulder.

"I know I shouldn't be doing this," she sobbed. "I know I should be strong. I know I need to be strong. Help me to be strong, Kevin. Just ... just hold me. Hold me, and tell me that everything's going to be all right."

Kevin held her as she had asked, still caressing her shoulder and still leaning his own head just enough so that it touched hers. This wasn't like the Rita he had known before. She was showing him an all-new side of herself – the vulnerable side, the one she showed only to her closest friends – the one that only those she loved knew about. He responded in the way that he wanted to do, and in the way she knew that he would. He held her, and hugged her, and he caressed her, and that was all. He couldn't have done more for her in any other way. After a while, he spoke.

"I can't promise that, Rita," he said, now gently and slowly rocking her in his arms. "I wish I could, but I can't. You know that. I tell you what I will do, though. I'm gonna do my best to get us out of here – all of us. If there's any way I can, I'm gonna do my best to do it."

"That's my man," Rita said, half-sobbing as she did. "I couldn't ask for more."

"Well, I'll give you one thing more," he said, as he stopped rocking her. He took the hand that he had been using to rub her back, then moved it around in front of them. He used it to lift her fallen chin, so that now the two were almost eye-to-eye, and he looked deep within those two Southern sapphires before him. "You say you think you're falling in love with me. Well ... I think I'm falling in love with you, too."

Rita's eyes were still moist, but she was now practically beaming. "Really?" she said, choking back another sob.

"I can't tell you when it happened" Kevin said, "but it's happened. Not that I regret it one bit."

"Oh, Kevin," Rita said, looking away. Kevin could have sworn that she had started blushing.

"The thing is," he added, and now he was wearing that mischievous little grin that meant he was about to deliver one of his typical zingers, "that you're my first older woman. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. I mean, is it different, or what?"

Rita now laughed despite her tears. "Oh, you silly young man!" she said. Now she too gave him a wicked grin. "The thing about us older girls is that we know both exactly what a man wants and how he wants it – provided you win us over, that is." She suddenly leaned up and kissed him again, quickly this time, then just as quickly pulled back. "You're only to first base with me, Mister Ryman. You've got a long way to go before you make it to home plate."

"Then let's hope I have lots of fun rounding second and third on the way," he said, as he now leaned in and kissed her on his own.

Rita laughed again when Kevin was done. "You know, we really need to call Elza and let her know how we're doing," she said.

"I know," Kevin said. "But for now, until you're ready, wasn't I supposed to just hold you?"

"That you were," Rita said, again leaning her head on his shoulder. "Just a little longer, okay?"

* * * * *

Standing outside the door to the storage room, the smiling John Kendo put his hand up to the door and patted it. "'Bout time dose two gots tahgedder," he said quietly to himself. He then turned and walked back down the stairs as quietly as he could, then just as quietly went through the door at the bottom and back out into the L-tunnel.

John walked all the way to the turn end of the ledge, where it ended at the deep side channel that ran alongside the high ledge in the other leg of the L-tunnel. He laughed to himself, then reached into one of his back pockets and pulled out a crumpled half-pack of cigarettes. From this he pulled the one that was the least broken, then produced a book of matches from his front pocket. He lifted the cigarette all the way to his mouth, and was about to put it in when one whiff of it caused him to quickly pull it away. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, then looked at both the book of matches and the pack of cigarettes. He then slowly lifted the crumpled pack to his nose and took another whiff. Coughing at the odor, he took all three – matchbook, cigarette, and crumpled pack - and threw them into the deep side channel. All three were thoroughly soaked with sewer water.

Sighing to himself, John leaned back against the wall of the L-tunnel. He folded his arms in front of him, and then began contemplating the deep trench to his side. He would give Rita all the time with Kevin that he could. He knew she needed it, her being a woman and all, even if Kevin didn't. The boy would probably figure it out soon enough, if Rita persisted. He was a bit of a jerk, but he wasn't dumb – and he had turned out to be a pretty good leader in spite of himself. John couldn't have done that, and he knew it – but there was one thing he could do right now, and that was give those two some time together. That he would do – and while he waited, he would figure out how they were going to get back out of there again. There wasn't a ladder or any kind of grate or rail nearby they could use to climb out of that deep trench, but there had to be a way. There was a solution to this problem, and he - simple John Kendo, of all people - was going to figure it out all by himself. Wouldn't that make boss Kevin and Miss Rita proud!

\--------------------

Chapter 12 - Reptile

The first thing Elza saw and heard as she entered the Main Pump Room was the giant spider coming through the grate at its far end. The last thing the giant spider saw or felt was the nine-millimeter bullet from Elza's SiG Sauer P228. It hit square in the middle of its small head, almost dead center of its eye cluster, then ripped through the thorax and sternum before it punched a large exit hole out the other side and sailed on down the vent. The giant spider promptly flopped to the floor, tumbling as it did, its legs flailing wildly as the now-lifeless body went through its death throes. She heard the second grate open ahead and to her right, and whirled about, firing even as she completed her rapid turn. A second spider had started to emerge from another wall vent, and it was mounted directly behind and to one side of the housing for a large industrial-sized pump assembly - the Main Pump - that dominated and split the room. The giant spider let out a wail and flopped down, having only gotten halfway through the vent, its forelimbs flailing and the rear ones rattling inside the vent behind it. One more shot from Elza, and its struggling ceased.

The presence of the Main Pump assembly, which started at the back wall to the right of the door and took up most of the middle of the room, meant that the only free space for walking was shaped like a giant "U" around it. That open space lay between the Main Pump itself and the outer walls of the Main Pump Room. Elza had no choice but to follow this path, as it was the only way around to the room's back corner. She could not see it, for the Main Pump itself blocked both easy access and any view of what might be back there. Elza had long ago tired of having to walk into blind corners and make blind turns, but she really didn't have any choice and she knew it. So, with pistol held in a walking carry, she began to make the circuit of the Main Pump Room.

Elza was about halfway down the first leg of the "U," moving alongside the main control panel for the Main Pump, when she heard the sound of faint tapping on concrete. She immediately moved into a firing crouch, and a split-second later the source of the light tapping was revealed. Two long and spindly legs came into view around the far end of the Main Pump housing. She waited until the head came into view around its edge, then fired. The thing was fast and jerked back almost immediately, but not fast enough. It had pumped its front legs as rapidly as it could in its haste to back up, and one of them was shot through as it passed through the space where its head had been a split second before. There was a rapid-fire series of taps from behind the Main Pump as the thing retreated ... then they slowed ... and finally stopped.

Elza licked her lips. She looked up at the vent in front of her, on the bare wall where the turn in the room's "U" circuit was located, then at the far end of the Main Pump across from it. Any moment now, another spider could pop through that vent. If it did while she was going around the end of the Main Pump so she could get the one in the room with her, then she'd be trapped between them both. She didn't give a thought about the vent at the other end of the room, still blocked as it was by the dead body of the giant spider whose legs still hung out from it. Both the vent that was still open and the giant spider on the other side of the Main Pump were her only concerns. She was going to have to take a chance to get the one with her, she decided – and with that, she dashed around the end of the Main Pump and opened fire.

* * * * *

Kevin and Rita just about had the last of their group's gear stowed in John's backpack when there came a knock at the storeroom door. "Hey," came a familiar rough voice, "is youse two decent in dere?"

"What do you think?" Rita barked in reply. She was grinning as she did so, though, and gave Kevin a wink as she continued. "Get your fat ass in here, John, and leave your dirty mind outside."

The door swung open, and the big man walked into the room. He was wearing his own grin, which would have done the Cheshire Cat proud. "Ise did it," he announced. "Ise know how we kin git outta here."

The two police officers looked at each other, then back at John. "You did, huh?" Kevin said. "All by yourself?"

"Kevin ...." Rita said reprovingly.

"S'okay," John said quickly, holding up a hand. "I knows I'm ain't da brightest bulb in da box – but I'm tellin' ya, I did it. Ise figgered it out. Ise know how we kin get outta here."

Kevin again looked at Rita. She narrowed her eyes in reply, and he by now knew what that look meant in connection with John. He shook his head, then said, "All right, John. You can let us in on the secret. What's the solution to our problem?"

"Yah standin' right next ta it," John said.

"Huh?" Kevin replied. He looked beside him, but the only thing there was the large and heavy crate where he had been sitting but a short while before.

* * * * *

It had been some time since the sound of the last gunshots had died away, and both Linda and Sherry were getting anxious. The little girl looked up at the older woman, her worry evident on her face. "I hope Miss Elza is all right."

"She will be," Linda said, trying her best to smile. "She's one tough young lady, you know."

Just as she finished speaking, and as if to accent Linda's words, there was a muffled but very loud BANG!!! that seemed to echo all around them. A few seconds later, it happened again. The two looked at each other, wondering what in the world was going on and wondering if it had anything to do with Elza. Their anxiety was relieved moments later when the door to the Main Pump Room opened and Elza stuck her head out. "It's all right," she said. Her face was set, but her eyes twinkled. "It's all clear, and it'll probably stay that way for a while. You can come in now."

The other two walked across the bridge and onto the far platform, joining Elza at the door to the Main Pump Room. Sherry moved to look around Elza inside the room, then squealed and grabbed Elza's leg. "There's a spider coming out of the wall in there!"

"It's dead, Sherry," Elza said, immediately putting her arm on the little girl's shoulder. "I killed it when I first went in. All the others are dead too. Okay?"

Sherry looked up into Elza's face. She saw nothing but calm reassurance, enforced by a slight smile. "Okay," she said, and let go, "but it scared me. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Elza replied.

"I'm glad she got spooked before I did," Linda muttered. Had Sherry not been the first of them to see the dead giant spider's body hanging out of the wall vent, then it would have been Linda who would have been doing the screaming.

Elza ignored the remark. Instead, with one arm still around Sherry, she just looked at Linda, then motioned to the door with her free hand. "After you," she said.

Linda shook her head. "Oh, no," she said firmly. "After you."

The three of them walked into the Main Pump Room. Elza and Sherry led the way, while Linda trailed close behind. Elza felt Sherry start when she saw the body of the other spider at the far end of the room, but that was all. She looked down at the little girl, and used the arm around her to give her a sympathetic squeeze. "It's dead, too." she said, "and there's another dead one around the corner. That's where we're going. Are you gonna be all right?"

It was obvious that Sherry was doing her best to give the impression of being tough, and her face was set in a stiff upper lip expression. "I'll be fine," she said. "I'm ready when you are."

As the trio moved forward into the first leg of the "U"-shaped path in the room, they heard LInda's voice from behind them. It sounded as if she was looking at the massive pump beside them. "So that's a main sewage pump," she said, as if to herself. "I guess they need something that big to move it all."

"Right the first time," Elza said, smiling as she did so.

"Oh," Linda said. She sounded as if she were fast losing interest, so Elza did not try to continue the conversation.

Sherry made a point of ignoring the other two dead spiders. Instead, she looked up at Elza and said, "Can I ask a question?"

"Sure, hon."

"What were those two big booms we heard, right before you came and got us?"

Elza laughed. "Oh, that was me. For once I was thinking instead of reacting. What I did was take a couple of my flash-bang grenades and tossed one each down one of those vents on either end of the room." She grinned wickedly at Sherry, as her voice took on a mock sepulchral tone. "I don't think any spiders are gonna be bothering us for a long, long, looooonnng time."

Sherry giggled. Behind them, even the normally dour Linda couldn't help but crack a smile.

The "U"-shaped path around the room ended in a series of shelving units and storage cabinets, directly across from the entrance but on the other side of the massive Main Pump. Elza walked to one of the storage cabinets, opened it, then motioned for the other two. "You two ought to see this for yourselves," she said. They both walked up and peered in, not knowing quite what to expect. The bottom of the shelving unit was empty and missing its shelves, although disturbances in the dust at the base indicated that something had been stored in there before – something large, judging from the apparent room required. It was the contents of the remaining top two shelves, however, that had obviously caught Elza's eye. On the lower of the two was at least a half-dozen boxes of nine-millimeter pistol ammunition, along with boxes of ammo of another caliber and two boxes of tranquilizer darts. On the top shelf sitting all by themselves were two large black synthetic pistol cases, of the heavy-duty kind normally used to ship or carry pistol-type weapons when not being used.

"Interesting," Linda said, eying both the ammo and the pistol cases. "At least we know why this stuff is down here."

"I don't think it's just for the spiders," Elza said, "but I'm not arguing our good fortune."

"You're thinking of that guy's story about the alligators," Linda said. "You don't really believe it, do you?"

"I wouldn't have believed giant spiders could have been down here," Elza said, "until I had to fight them. And obviously that supervisor guy did, too – otherwise he wouldn't have had guns and all this ammo down here."

"Point taken," Linda replied.

Elza pulled out one of the boxes of different ammo, and showed it to Linda. "Forty-four magnum. That's pretty powerful stuff even for a giant spider."

"What's the difference?" Linda asked.

Elza stared at her for a minute, then remembered that Linda had said she knew next to nothing about guns. "Ever see the movie Dirty Harry, with Clint Eastwood?"

Linda nodded. "Caught it on TV late one night. I get it now. The sweetest little handgun in the world. Will blow your head clean off, and so on."

Elza now pulled out one of the pistol cases. It seemed surprisingly light. She cursed under her breath, then opened it. She then turned it so that Linda could see its empty interior. There was a rather large pistol-shaped cutout in the interior foam of the case. "This case was for the Magnum for those bullets – although it's obviously not here now. Damnit. We could have definitely used it."

"What do you think happened to it?" Linda asked.

"I think our supervisor friend probably loaded it and took it with him, along with extra ammo, on his very last trip into the Sewers," Elza said. "See where there's an obvious hole where the .44 Magnum shell boxes are placed? I also think it was a trip from which he never came back – otherwise, his gun would still be in here." She now closed and put the empty case back on the shelf, then pulled down the other pistol case and opened it. Grinning, she turned it towards Linda. "I know you said you don't know anything about real guns, but here's a kind of gun you probably know everything about."

Inside was a pistol that looked a lot like an airgun or pellet pistol, save for the oversized diameter of its barrel. Linda gave Elza a cross stare. "Tranquilizer gun. Pretty standard. That explains those darts. And yes, I've used one before – many times, in fact. Like you said, though – it's not a real gun."

 

"I suggest you take it," Elza said. "At least that's one weapon you know how to use."

Linda's face wrinkled in a frown. "That's not going to be much good against anything that's infected," she said. "Besides, how much room would it and its darts take up that we could use for extra ammo for your real guns?"

Elza stared at Linda for a moment, and then her face broke into a broad grin. "Well, well, Miss Merton. That's actually very good thinking. Don't get me wrong – I'd take it anyway, if we had the room to spare, but we probably won't. You're right about that. You never know what you might need in this kind of situation. Anyway, right now we need to reload my ammo clips as soon as possible, then load up on as much of this nine millimeter as we can carry. Once that's done, we need get a move on if we're ever gonna get out of here. Will you two give me a hand? We can always come back for the rest, and even that tranqulizer gun and its darts – provided we're still stuck down here and if we have to."

"Sure!" Sherry exclaimed, as Elza began removing boxes of ammo and handing them to her. She stacked them neatly on the floor. "Just like you showed us to do, Miss Elza?"

"Yeah," Linda said, smiling. "Just like she showed us." She made a motion with her hands of pushing a bullet into a clip, very much like the one Elza had used earlier in demonstrating the process. She then glanced at Elza. "What about that other kind of ammo?"

"Leave it," Elza said. "Without the right gun to fire it, it's of no use to us."

* * * * *

WHOMP!!!

The large crate from the small storage room dropped heavily onto the narrow ledge at the right-hand leg of the L-tunnel. It didn't even bounce, much less try. It just settled into place with a sickening thud that would have flattened anyone or anything that might have been under it.

"Damn," John said, rubbing his shoulder. Both he and Kevin had pushed the crate out of the now-opened loading door above the ledge. Either one of them might have been able to do it alone, but with two it had been a cinch. Rita had raised the cantilever door for them by working the wall switch, then stood aside while they got the business done. John now looked over at Kevin, who was also resting. "Dat's one heavy sunuvabitch, boss, I wonder whut's innit."

"Who knows? Who cares?" Kevin said. He wiped a gloved hand across his now-sweaty brow. "Let's get down there and get this done, so we can get outta here."

The two men, with Rita in tow, exited the storage room and went down its winding stair to the door at the bottom. The crate sat exactly where it had tumbled down from above, almost filling the ledge from one side to the other. Kevin looked at John, and the other looked back at him. John grinned. "Ready, boss?"

Kevin nodded. "Yeah."

While Kevin and Rita had been sharing a few precious moments alone together in the storage room, realizing that they had more in common than just their jobs, John had been studying the problem of how to get back out of the L-tunnel. His logic was as simple as he was simple-minded, but it worked. His idea was to use the large packing crate from the storage room as a makeshift bridge, extending the low ledge in their part of the L-tunnel so that it would actually cross the deep trench running alongside the high ledge where they came in. It was almost as high as the trench was deep - at the point where the lower ledge was located, that is - and by bridging the gap, it would give them the extra height they needed to climb back up onto the high ledge. Very simple and straighforward was John's plan – and it was actually going to work. Kevin felt a twinge of pride in his strong but slow-witted subordinate, as they got ready to push the crate off of the edge of the low ledge. The man had his moments, yes – but this time, he had done something good ... very good indeed.

WHOMP-KER-SPLASH!!!

The large crate fell neatly into position at the bottom of the deep trench, and sewer water went everywhere. Rita squealed as some of the water fell on her. She had strayed too close to the edge as she followed Kevin and John's efforts to move the crate. Kevin couldn't help but laugh. "Now you'll stink like the rest of us," he chuckled.

"Shut the hell up, Kevin," Rita said out of the side of her mouth, but she was smiling and her eyes twinkled as she did so.

The crate proved such a good fit as a bridge across the deep trench that they didn't even have to jump over to get on it. On top of that, it was barely half-a-step down from the lower ledge – and that put them within easy reach of the high ledge. Kevin stared up at the high ledge for a moment, then turned and motioned to Rita. "C'mon," he said with a smile. "let's get outta here."

"Don't you think it's high time we called Elza first?" Rita said.

She had that look on her face that by now Kevin had learned meant, "You're forgetting something, stupid." Of course she didn't say it out loud, but he got the message. Kevin nodded and reached for his radio. So too did Rita, even as John reached for his own. Kevin held his radio up and thumbed the mike. "Elza, this is Kevin. Do you read, over?"

There was a pause, and then the radio crackled. "Elza here, over."

"Just checking in to see how you're doing, over."

"Could be better. Our initial route didn't work out, and we're having to backtrack to try another way. We also had a run-in with a mess of your giant spiders, but we're all right." There was the indistinct voice of a child in the background, and then Elza spoke again. "Oh, and little Sherry here says hi to everyone, and she's hoping to see all of you soon. How are you guys doing?"

"About the same," Kevin replied. He looked over at his companions. Rita was listening intently on her own radio, and had smiled upon hearing both Sherry's voice and her calling out greetings to everyone. On the other hand, John had made a face and was holding his radio out at full arm's length, gently turning and shaking it now and then. As he did so, water would occasionally fly from it in all directions, or pour out of one of the corners. He returned Kevin's gaze with a helpless expression. "It's wet," he said. He had forgotten about it being in his back pocket when he had doused himself earlier when dropping into the deep trench.

Kevin was by now too used to John's hit-or-miss antics to let it get to him too much. He just sighed and shook his head, then went back to talking to Elza on his own radio. "We've had problems with the spiders, too, but they seemed to get less the farther we went. Had our own run-in with a particularly nasty pair right at the end, but we got 'em. We got that key card, too, and we're about to start heading back your way."

"Right. One more thing, Kevin. We found a storage locker with a bunch of ammo in it, and were able to stock back up. We also found ammo for a .44 Magnum, but no gun to go with it. Have you guys seen a Magnum anywhere down there?"

"Nope," Kevin promptly answered. "Our ammo situation's gotten so bad we've had to resort to sticks and pipes at times, or whatever else we could pick up."

"Same here, until I found that ammo cache. We'll try to get all we can carry, so you'll have some too once we hook back up with you. We're not going to mess with the Magnum ammo, though, until we find the gun to go with it."

Elza paused as another female voice, older and deeper than Sherry's, spoke somewhere in the background. "I thought that cop had a big gun. Can't he use this ammo?"

Elza spoke into her radio again. "I know this is a dumb question, Kevin, and I already know the answer, but I'm gonna ask it anyway, so you can be the one to give the answer – because Linda here needs the matter explained to her by you, and not me. Can you use .44 Magnum ammo with your Kimber .45 ACP?"

"Nope," Kevin shot back immediately. "Shell's too long to fit in my clips. Even if it could, a pistol has to be specially built to handle a Magnum shell – otherwise it might explode when firing bullets with such a high powder charge. Some custom .44 Magnum pistols are chambered so they'll handle .45 ACP rounds, but it isn't common – and my Kimber's not one of them. It's a true .45, and only works with .45 ACP ammo."

"So what's the big deal?" Kevin heard Linda ask over his radio. "I mean, is one better than the other?"

"They both do pretty much the same damage at close range," Kevin replied, "but .45 ACP ammo is a lot cheaper and more plentiful, whereas .44 Magnum is the better load for pistol shooting at long range. The Magnum gets its power from its bigger-than-normal powder charge, while the .45 ACP gets it from being bigger and heavier, relatively speaking. Six of one, half a dozen of the other – it's all in what you're wanting to do with it, I guess. I prefer .45 ACP because that's what I got used to using when I was an MP in the Army and I don't do much long range shooting – but some folks prefer the .44 Magnum because they do, and because of that very feature. Take your pick. Tell you what, though. If you've got any .45 ACP ammo up there, I'll take all you can get – 'cuz I'm about out."

He heard Elza laughing pleasantly over the radio, then she spoke. "I think that's a lot more than Linda wanted to know, but I'm glad you said it and not me. It's better that someone who likes and knows the kind of gun they use explain it to someone who doesn't know guns. Sorry, Kevin – we haven't found any .45 ACP ammo anywhere up here, so far. I'll make a deal with you, though. We'll keep an eye out for it, if you'll do the same for that .44 Magnum pistol down there."

"Will do," Kevin said. "That's all we can do, until something better comes along. Anything else?"

"Not on our end," came the answer. "We plan to get a move on as soon as we're finished restocking. Call us if anything comes up, or if you get out before we do."

"Will do, and you do the same, Elza. Kevin, out."

Kevin lowered his radio and re-clipped it to his belt. Beside him, Rita was doing the same. A little farther down the ledge, John had his radio in both hands and was waving it up and down, apparently trying to dry it out. Kevin looked at Rita, who rolled her eyes and shook her head. "John, give it up," Kevin said quietly. "You're radio is probably ruined."

"I thawt I heard it crackle," John said. He stopped waving it and put it up to his ear, then held it up to Kevin and Rita. "Dere – ya hear dat?"

"It's gonna sound like that after it's been soaked," Rita said. "All radios do, John. That doesn't mean it still works."

John looked a bit peeved. "Well, Ise gonna keep it anyhow, jes' in case." he insisted, jamming it back into his back pocket.

"Stranger things have happened," Rita said. "I remember one time Darcy dropped her cell phone in the toilet. She thought it would be dead as a doornail and got a new one, but it started working again four days later – after it had dried out, apparently. The LCD screen never worked right after that, of course, but still ...." To herself, she wondered if Kevin had noticed that both he and Elza now appeared to be on a first name basis, instead of being stiffly formal as before.

"Whatever," Kevin said, firmly but dismissively. "All right, enough with the water sports. Let's get the hell outta here."

It took them a bit to get back up on on the high ledge. John went first, as he was the heaviest, and both Kevin and Rita had to boost him from behind until he could get enough purchase on the edge to climb on up. After that, they handed him their backpack and other loose gear, such as Rita's sling-less shotgun, so it would all be up there once the rest of them came up. Kevin had no intention of going back down for anything, nor of ever coming back down here again. Rita went next, with John pulling her up from above while Kevin pushed and lifted from behind. She was about halfway up when she looked down between her legs to see Kevin grinning at her. "Dat ass," he said, effecting a city uptown ghetto accent. "Good view from down here."

"Want me to put my foot in your face?" Rita growled – but it was a pleasant growl. She made as if to kick him in the head, and Kevin acted like he was ducking.

"All rite, youse two," John said, as he broke up the act by hauling Rita the rest of the way up onto the ledge. "Let's git outta hear first, and den youse two kin go off an' play all ya wants."

"Right," Kevin said. He held up his arms towards them. "Gimme a hand, guys?"

* * * * *

There had been enough ammo to reload both of Elza's guns and all of her spare clips with plenty left over. Every formerly empty pouch and corner of Elza's armor vest was full of nine-millimeter boxes, single bullets, and preloaded ammo clips. Linda had one full box each in both of her jacket pockets, too. As for Sherry, she had insisted on taking one of the gold-and-tan boxes of .44 Magnum ammo despite Elza again pointing out that it was useless without the gun. "You said we need to be prepared," Sherry said, "an' I can't carry much because I don't have very many pockets, so I'm gonna carry this – just in case."

Elza had almost become exasperated at the little girl for doing something so pointless. She looked at Linda, who only shrugged. "You know kids," she said. "I say let her keep it. She's only trying to help in her own way."

Elza was reminded of a kitten she had once owned. It had always been amused by one of those little colored flash balls you can buy in most pet stores. She looked again at Sherry, then at the box of .44 Magnum ammo with its unique color scheme, and then nodded her head. "Well, that is a lot of powder," she allowed herself to say, as if reasoning out an excuse. "I can always break apart the bullets with my tools and use it for something, if I need it. Okay, Sherry," she continued, looking down at the little girl. "You can keep that box. But if I find anything else I think is more important for you to carry, then you'll need to drop that and swap out. Okay?"

"Okay."

Elza now looked at Linda. "Before we go on," she said, "there's something else we need to do." She took the tranquilizer pistol from its case, made sure it was unloaded, then handed it to Linda. "Show me how you use a gun," she said.

"But this isn't a real gun," Linda protested.

"Pretend that it is," Elza said.

"But I don't know how to use a real gun," Linda shot back.

"Exactly," Elza said. "Back up in the Parking Garage, right before we left, you came very close to shooting me. And I had to leave you behind when I first started searching down here because I knew I couldn't count on you to back me up. Thanks to the lesson taught to me by our eight-legged friends, I'm going to have to count on you whether I like it or not. Before I do, though, I'm going to insist that you at least have a grasp on the basics of handling a gun. And frankly, Miss Merton, I don't care if you can't hit the broad side of a barn from the inside, so long as you don't hit me. That's what this is about. It'll take all of ten to fifteen minutes, if you pay attention and ask only questions that matter. Got it?"

Linda nodded. "Got it."

"You're not going to get my SiG back until I'm fairly certain that you at least halfway known how to properly use it. That's why we're using this unloaded tranquilizer pistol for the lessons. Now ... show me how you use a gun, and then I'll show you the right way."

* * * * *

The three of them were on the move again, having gotten a good start on the long and winding trip back through the maze of lower and older passages in the Sewers, and back up to where they had first climbed down into them. They hadn't encountered any enemy of any kind so far, and for that they were grateful. All they had seen was the occasional rat or other small form of vermin, and it had scampered away as soon as it had realized that they had seen it. Rita was looking thoughtful as she walked behind and to the right of Kevin, with John bringing up the rear.

"Penny for your thoughts," Kevin said, his face still looking ahead and forward down the long tunnel they were now traversing.

"It's nothing, really," Rita said. "I just wonder why nobody above has ever talked about these older tunnels. I mean, theories about old smugglers and dockside gangs are neat and all, but you'd think that other people outside of City Services would know about them. I mean, I can think of some history and archaeology types at the university who'd just love to come down here and scout around, giant spiders notwithstanding, if those theories are true. And the biology people would probably start chasing after them, too. Not to mention all the ones who like exploring old tunnels and such just for the hell of it."

"Oh, dat's easy, Miss Rita," John said. "Nobody knows 'cuz both da city an' Umbrella doan want 'em ta know."

"Come again?" Rita said, surprised by John's words.

Even as he walked, John made his characteristic 'thinking' motion of raising one of his hands to the back of his neck to scratch it. "Nobody knows 'cause it's better for da bigwigs at City Hall an' at Umbrella if-n they doan. Ya seen jes' how bad it is down here."

"I couldn't help it," Rita said, looking down at the off-colored stains on her uniform where she had been splashed. "This is the kind of stink you get from sewage that's been setting up for a while. I'm going to need a really good shower or bath to wash it off, and it's not as bad on me as you two."

"Eggs-ackly," John said. "Dat's why dey is keepin' dese tunnels sekrit – sose de can dump da sistern any time dey wants. An' since nobody knows about 'em, and dey is so far down, dey don't have ta worry 'bout keepin' 'em clean lak they're supposed ta, like they do wid the ones dat alwuz gets inspected."

Now Kevin joined in the discussion, talking as he walked. "If Raccoon City is anything like some of the other big cities where I've lived," he said, "then it's supposed to have some dump tanks or dedicated storage tunnels for whenever they've got to clean out the Sewers." He glanced up at the sickly green slime on the walls, then resumed looking straight ahead. "I guess these are it."

"Ya got it, boss," John said. "Ed once told me dat Raccoon City has a combined sewer sistern, lak a lot of old Ahmericun cities. Dat's where da storm drains in da streets an' sech hook up wid the same pipes as da sewer lines comin' from da buildings an' houses, and sech. Of course, da big problem wid a combined sewer sistern is whenevah you git lots of rain, or you're next ta a river lak Raccoon City, an' ya git a big flood. Causes da whole thing ta back up to da point where it'll gum up an' shet down da treatment plant."

"I remember that happening in one town where I used to live," Rita said. "There was raw sewage everywhere, and it took 'em about two weeks to clean it all up. The town stunk for a whole month or more after that."

"Yup," John said. "Well, Ed said dey tried to git some 'mergincee dump tanks built a while back for whenevah dere was a flood, so dey cud sluff off da excess in dere, but da city wooden giv' 'im da money. Den one day, dey said dey had da problem licked. When Ed asked what dey did, dey told him dat Umbrella was workin' witd the city to take care of it an' dat he just needed to shet da hell up. After dat, he didn't ask no moar. He wanted ta keep his job, ya know."

"Umbrella again," Kevin grumbled. "Now just why did I know they were going to be mixed up in this somehow?"

"They might have told the city about the tunnels," Rita offered. "They know more about what's going on below ground than anyone else. Rumor has it that their Factory Complex has all kinds of tunnels and secret annexes under the northeast part of town where it's located, and there's also all those caves that run under all of that property both they and the Spencer family own between here and the Arklay Mountains."

"That all adds up to this," Kevin said firmly. "The three of us are apparenly walking through an old and disused lower tunnel in the Sewers that's used to dump the system whenever there's an emergency, and there's been an emergency in Raccoon City for four days straight now." He turned his head to look back at the other two. "Get the picture?"

"I even got the frame," Rita said. "Elza's up where the Control Room is supposed to be. If she has to dump any part of the system for any reason to get to where she needs to go—"

"Den we is fucked," John said. "Jeezuz God Almighty, but ah shoor did put us in a fix when I brought us all down hear." He looked ahead at the other two with pleading eyes. "Ise sorry, guys. I didn't know—"

"It's all right, John," Kevin said. "What's done is done. I havent seen any sign of a system purge yet – and the farther back up we go, the better chance we have of getting out before it happens." He whipped out his radio. "All the same, I'm gonna give Elza a call. I don't want her drowning us until we're ready."

"That's not funny," Rita said.

"Wasn't meant to be," Kevin replied. "Just making an observation." He keyed his mike. "Elza, this is Kevin. Do you read, over?"

This time the reply was prompt. "Elza here. What's up?"

"You're not planning on draining the Sewers once you get up to the Control Room, are you?" Kevin said into the mike.

"Uhhhhh, no, not unless we have to. Why?"

Briefly Kevin explained what he and his companions had deduced. "So if you drain the system while we're still down here, you'll probably drown all of us," he finished.

"Oh, my," Elza answered. There was a long pause, then she spoke again. "I don't know if I will or not, but I'll call first before I do – or you call me once you get out of there. How's that?"

"Sounds like a deal to me. Still no Magnum anywhere."

"And we haven't had any time to look for .45 ACP ammo, either. I've just had to show Linda here the basics of using a gun."

From somewhere behind him, Kevin heard John's honestly amazed voice. "She doan know?"

"No, John," he now heard Rita say. "Some people never learn unless they have to. Some people never learn at all, nor see any need to – until it's too late, like right now."

"Oh."

Kevin smiled, then spoke again into the mike. "Sounds good. One of us will call the other if anything develops. Kevin, out."

As they approached one of the many tunnel grates with inset doors through which they had passed earlier on their way through the lower Sewers levels, Kevin held up a hand and silently motioned for the others to stop. They froze, hands on their weapons, just Kevin's was. From somewhere beyond the tunnel grate, down the next tunnel and around the next bend, they heard the familiar sounds of shuffling and zombie moaning. Kevin looked at the others, and nodded. "Melee weapons," he hissed softly. Both he and John switched at once – John to the long iron pipe he had picked up earlier, and Kevin to a shorter club-length one that Rita had found for him down in the lower storage room. John now turned around for Rita, so she could unlimber her police shotgun from the backpack straps. The fact that it had not come with a sling had been a major drawback, but not an unworkable one. Even as she raised the shotgun to a hip-firing position, John moved ahead of her and brought up his pipe so that it leaned against one shoulder – like a baseball player with his bat walking up to the plate. Both he and Rita silently nodded to Kevin, who in turn nodded back. Kevin's hand now went to the handle of the door in the grate, and he opened it to let them through.

* * * * *

Elza's party was now back in the L-tunnel where they had first arrived when they had entered the Sewers from the Parking Garage manhole. All three of them hopped or jumped over its center trench to the other side, and were soon enough all on the ledge that ran in front of the Break Room door. This time, however, Elza led them down to the ladder shaft at the far end – the very spot where the two zombies in the center trench had tried to ambush Linda earlier. Linda shivered involuntarily at the memory; however, all that remained of that pair was their blood on the floor. The bodies were now long gone, carried away by the current in the center trench and washed off to who knew where. Elza halted at the ladder, pulled a printout of the Sewers Map from one of her pockets, and checked it. "According to the map," she said to the others, "this leads up to the West Tank. That's the main collection tank for the North Canal. That's where we've finally got to go if we want to get out of here, but the map doesn't show a door connecting to it. However, it does show a door leading to another side tunnel, which in turn has a side door that opens onto the high ledge back in the Central Hub. This is the route I intend for us to take."

"Why?" Linda said. "You can't get across unless the bridge is in place, and you still haven't figured out how to raise it."

"Because I want to see if there's another set of controls up there, or some other way to rotate and raise it," Elza said. "I also want to take a look at that collection tank. I'm guessing that's the only way to get into the North Canal, because there isn't any other point on the map where it's got a common wall with another room or tunnel. There's got to be a connection between the two that it doesn't show."

"Maybe it's a big floor thingy, like in here," Sherry said, "where all the water flows in or out."

"I am not going into sewer water of any kind if I can help it," Linda said adamantly.

Elza gave her a cross look. "Oh, but you will, Miss Merton, if that's what it takes. In fact, all three of us will go swiming butt-naked in it if we have to, if that's the only way to get us out of here and back to civilization. Is that clear?"

The two women glared at each other, and for a minute Sherry thought they were going to start getting mad at each other again. It was Linda who backed down and looked away. "Clear," she muttered.

"All right then," Elza said, then gave Linda a wry smile. "Don't worry. I don't relish the prospect any more than you do. This stuff is going to do wonders for our skin and hair. And I wouldn't have us do what I just said unless it was the absolute only way and I could figure out a way for us to bring our clothes along, too. I just wanted to remind you of the fix we're in, and what it might take to get out of it."

Linda didn't respond directly. Instead, she stared up the ladder shaft. There was light coming from an opening high up and directly ahead, but it was too high up the narrow shaft to see any details. She turned to look at Elza. "Well then, shall I go first?"

"No, I will," Elza said, moving up beside her. Linda stepped aside, and Elza put one foot on the bottom rung even as she grabbed the ladder's side rails with both hands. "You next, and Sherry last. That way, our most vulnerable member is at the rear, where she can be best protected."

"Fine with me," Linda said. She hadn't planned on playing point anyway – and somehow she was sure Elza knew that.

The L-tunnel echoed with the clomp-clomp of Elza's biker boots on the ladder as Elza ascended it to the patch of light high overhead. It was at least a full floor higher, had they been inside a normal building, or perhaps a floor-and-a-half. That made sense, Elza thought, considering that the next room was a collection tank. It was from there that the sewer water poured through the grate in the end of the L-tunnel now directly below her. She suspected that the North Canal probably connected in a similar fashion, feeding the collection tank from various outside sources before it passed into the sewer system proper via the L-tunnel. If it was blocked off by another heavy grate with thick iron bars, like the one below, then she was going to need tools to get it out. She was also probably going to have to drain the tank, too, as that grate would almost certainly be below the water level of the tank. It had worked out for the best that Kevin had called her when he did, and warned her about the danger to his group farther below should she drain that tank with them still being down there. She was probably going to have to do it anyway, she mused, but at least they would now get plenty of warning before she did. All of this hard thinking passed within the few seconds that it took Elza to get to the top of the ladder, and she stopped just below where the light outlined what appeared to be a block-lined doorway with no door or provision for one. The ladder was at right angles with it, so she could simply step off of the ladder and into the doorway itself, and it opened onto what could only be what the map called the West Tank – the main collection tank for the North Canal. Carefully, just in case any foes might be inside, infected or otherwise, Elza eased up the ladder just enough so that only her head cleared the bottom edge of the doorway, and took a good look into the next room.

The West Tank Room was a dimly lit and rather large squarish affair, with the collection tank itself dominating the east and south walls. It actually extended to the limit of all four walls, but a stout braced metal catwalk ran from the doorway of the ladder shaft along the western wall, made a right-angle turn, then follwed the north wall until it abruptly terminated at its corner with the eastern wall. Elza noticed out of the corner of her right eye a small platform made of a mix of metal grating and bracing identical in style to the catwalk in the room's southeast corner. The rest of her attention was drawn instead to the two alcoves that were inset into the northern wall of the West Tank Room. The one on her left, or on the west end of the north wall, was by far the narrower of the two. It seemed to actually be a hallway of sorts that went back for a distance, and then made a right-hand turn so that it ran behind the other alcove and was thus lost to view from the turn onward. It was the larger of the two alcoves that was by far the more visually interesting despite the bad lighting. It had stone block flooring identical to the walls, and appeared to have been built as a storage space of some kind, for what purpose Elza did not know. Aside from assorted odds and ends and some storage shelves in its back, that were too far away and the lighting too bad for her to make out their contents, the one thing in the alcove that drew her attention the most was the oversized packing crate that sat almost in the middle of it – not to mention the eight-foot-long reptilian shape resting at the base of it, regarding her with unblinking eyes.

She reacted before it could, or rather it seemed that way. Before it even began to move she had pulled herself up enough to bring her autopistol to bear. It turned its long snout in her direction, and with surprising speed lunged into the tank, cutting a beeline across its scummy surface straight towards her. She got off a full automatic burst of anywhere from three to six shots - she was never sure how many when recalling the event later - and then literally dropped back down the ladder shaft, half-falling and half-sliding in her haste to get back down before it got her. She heard and felt the snapping of large, powerful jaws just inches above her head, and then again as it bent down and tried to get her again, but she managed to stay just ahead of it. She literally tumbled out of the bottom of the ladder shaft, much to Linda and Sherry's surprise, and came up in a firing couch – with her autopistol in hand and aimed at the ladder shaft. An animal roar now filled the L-tunnel, emanating from the ladder shaft, and they thought they heard the sound of scraping and sliding, and claws on stone and metal. Thankfully nothing emerged to chase after the young woman who had so brashly violated its domain mere seconds before.

"Damn, that was close!" Elza said, panting between sentences. "A second or two more, and it would have taken my head off!"

"What was it?" Sherry asked.

"That wasn't a zombie," Linda said, "and it didn't sound like an infected dog or one of Umbrella's hunters, either."

"No," said Elza, as she sucked in another deep breath. "Alligator."

* * * * *

Kevin, Rita, and John were finding it harder and harder to make their way back up to the T-junction with the card-locked door, and that was their only certain means of escape from this part of the Sewers. It seemed now as if each successive room was packed chock full of enemies. Zombies, rat-things, even giant spiders – and sometimes a real mix to liven things up. Both Kevin and John had finally been forced to set aside their melee weapons and resort to their guns just for the group to keep moving, but it was still hard going. All three were using their pistols now – Rita had run out of shotgun ammo four rooms back, and she had the last of Kevin's own shotgun ammo stash chambered in her Remington even now.

The last zombie in the room went down with a bullet through one eye and a hole blown out the back of its head. John lowered his smoking pistol and looked at Kevin. "Where'd dey all cum frum?" he said. "Dey weren't dis many when we wuz first in hear!"

"Something must have stirred them up," Kevin said, swapping out clips in his Glock, "but what?"

"Or rather who?" Rita said. She too was swapping ammo clips in her pistol. "I'll give you one good guess, and her name starts with 'E'."

"Well I wish she wouldn't have done whatever it was," Kevin grumbled. "At the rate we're going, we may very well run out of ammo before we make it back to that T-junction."

"It's only three doors away," Rita said carefully. "C'mon. Think positive, Kevin. How're you doin' back there, John?"

"Ise down ta mah las' eight pistah boollits," John said, "but so far Ise managed ta save all of mah rifle bullets. An' you'll 'membah I bent mah long pipe two rooms back when I wrapped it around dat support beam whackin' dat one zombeh."

"Yeah," Kevin said. "How's my shorter pipe workin' out for ya?"

"It doan have da reach," John said, swinging it with his left hand, "but it still makes fer a pretty good nig—"

"Don't say it!" Rita snarled, suddenly whirling about and glaring at the man. "You know how I feel about that word, John!"

John looked abashed, and cast his eyes downward. "Sorry, Miss Rita."

"That's better," Rita said.

"Hey John," Kevin said suddenly, "I need more ammo outta your backpack."

"Dere's ain't much dere," John said, turning around, "but helps yerself."

Kevin walked past Rita, leaving her standing near the first of the last three tunnel doors through which they had yet to pass to get back to the T-junction. Her eyes narrowed as Kevin, reaching his hand into the backpack for the ammo, leaned in close to John and whispered in his ear. "I'm curious. What were you going to say just now? About the pipe?"

John looked nervously at Rita, then back at Kevin. He too spoke in a whisper, but it was a husky and coarse one, and neither as quiet nor as confidential as John might have thought or Kevin liked. "Ise wuz gonna say yo' short pipe made fer a good nigger knockah."

"Oh," Kevin said. "Just curious. Thanks for the ammo."

"Sure, boss."

Kevin thought for a moment, then whispered to John again. "I think maybe you'd better call it your zombie knocker instead."

"Zombeh knockah." John let the words roll off of his tongue a few times. "Zombeh knockah. Yeah ... dat'll werk! Zombeh knockah ...."

Kevin began sliding bullets into one of his empty pistol clips as he walked back to the door. Rita was still glaring at him. "You just had to ask him, didn't you." she growled.

"I'm a curious boy," Kevin said. He looked over at her, his face set. "I don't believe in hiding anything, Rita. I don't like the way John talks sometimes any more than you, but you gotta understand something about him. He's a common laborer, a construction worker, a muscle man for heavy lifting and loading jobs. They're always talking smack like that on those kind of jobs, regardless of to what race or creed they belong, slinging insults and racial slurs all the time without really meaning it, because it helps to past the time on what would otherwise be boring and very dull jobs."

"I know," Rita said, "and I forgot that you've done that sort of work, too, before you joined the force." With that the frown left her face, and she sighed. "I don't have to like it, though – and there's no reason to keep talking like that when you're not 'on the job,' as you said." She looked thoughtful. "If only you had grown up in the deep South like I did, Kevin. I mean, it was decades after forced integration when I was a kid, but the memories and attitudes were still there, especially among the older folks."

"We had our share of racial discrimination out West, too," Kevin said, "only it was directed against Mexicans and Indians. Tell you want. We'll share experiences later. Right now, let's get this over and done with. Right?" he finished, holding up his Glock with one hand and reaching for the door handle.

"Right," Rita smiled back, raising her Beretta likewise.

"Me, too," John said, hefting pistol in one hand and readying his short pipe in the other.

"All right, then," Kevin said. He tensed like a cat ready to pounce, his hand tightening on the door handle. Behind him, the other two steeled themselves for the charge. "Go!" Kevin barked, yanking the door open and dashing through with one smooth motion. The others followed right on his heels, weapons at the ready – and the three of them literally poured into the next-to-last room left on their return trip.

It was like charging into a low-budget butcher's shop. Blood was everywhere, as were assorted body parts, entrails, and other things not recognizable but no less revolting in both their look and smell. The odor hit them full in the face as they barreled through the door, making all three either choke or gag. They came to an abrupt stop only a few paces inside the room - another L-tunnel, like so many they had passed through on their journey - and surveyed the gruesome sight before them.

"Wha' de hell happen'd in hear?" John spluttered.

Kevin knelt down, careful not to touch anything, and took a good look at the nearest pile of recognizable body parts. "Looks like a bunch of zombies were in here, same as the last few rooms, and something even nastier got in here with 'em," he said. He pointed with his gun barrel to the end of what was unmistakably an arm, for it still had part of a hand attached. "You see those marks? The way everything's torn apart? I'd say we're dealing with a very large animal or mutant monster."

"You think it could be another of those hunter things?" Rita said, squatting down next to him. John moved up behind them, weapons still at the ready, covering the pair while they did what all police do in such situations.

Kevin shook his head. "Those teeth marks are spaced a lot farther apart than what was on that one hunter we had to fight. Also, these zombies were ripped apart. This arm isn't bitten through. It's been literally torn off of whatever zombie it used to belong to." He looked around the room. "The rest of it is probably in here, somewhere, mixed in with the remains of the others."

"But where's the thing that did all this?" Rita asked.

As if in reply, and right on cue, they heard a guttural animal growl come from around the turn in the L-tunnel. Both Kevin and Rita instantly came to their feet, pistols raised and at the ready. John had put away both pipe and pistol as soon as the growl sounded, and now stood behind them with his hunting rifle unlimbered and ready to whip up to his shoulder at a moment's notice. Another growl sounded, somewhat less loud than before, but nothing came from around the corner to threaten them.

After a while, Kevin let out a long breath. "I'd say whatever it might be is probably stuffed, and doesn't want to be disturbed right now." He grimaced. "Still, we're gonna have to get by it if we're ever gonna get out of here. And, judging by its handiwork," and with that, he nodded at the gruesome panoply on the floor, "that ain't gonna be easy."

"I know what it is," Rita said softly.

"You do?" Kevin said, looking at her and raising an eyebrow. John was doing the same.

"Uh-huh," Rita said. She turned to look at him, and for the first time Kevin noticed genuine fear in her eyes. "I'd know that sound anywhere. We had 'em in some of the lakes and swamp bottoms back in Mississippi where I grew up. I never saw one out there, an' I'm glad I never did, 'cuz I probably wouldn't be here today if I had – but I've seen 'em in cages, or on leashes, and I know that sound. Ain't no other animal in the world makes a sound like that." She paused to catch her breath, then went on. "That's a 'gator, Kevin. Big one, too, from the sound of it. That's why all these teeth marks on these remains are so wide apart. And if there's one mistake you don't ever make twice, it's to take a 'gator for granted."

"Jeez Louise!" John exclaimed. His eyes were had opened wide, and his skin had gone pale. "Ed wuz rite, an' so wuz da udder guys! Jeeeezz ...."

Kevin's face formed a wry smile. "And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse," he quipped.

\--------------------

Chapter 13 - Recycle

The alligator rested on the catwalk within easy striking distance of the hole out of from where the human had first appeared and then subsequently escaped. Only the distance between them had saved it the first time. It would not the next time, however, because now there wasn't any. The alligator was too veteran a hunter after its own kind to make that mistake again. It also knew about the black boxes the humans carried that spat pain and death in small doses. This last human had carried one - a repeater of some kind - but he had been too fast, and the human's shots had gone wild. One had grazed its back, but only one. It was still whole, fit, and vital, and it was ready ... oh, it was so ready. It had been a long time since it had tasted human. It relished such sweet meat when it came, and now more was here. So it waited, with the patience of a saint, for the human to reappear. It was a creature bred to near perfection over the long process of evolution for the sudden lunge and kill on both land and water. It stayed right where it was, remaining perfectly still, waiting for the human that it was certain would return. It could afford to wait. The human, on the other hand, probably could not. That would be its fatal mistake ... and that is why the alligator would feast on fresh human tonight, instead of half-rotted zombie.

There were noises from the bottom of the ladder shaft. The human was no doubt getting ready to come back up again. It was courageous, like some of the other humans the alligator had encountered, but it was a fool. It was no match for the superior speed and striking capability of its animal foe. The human would be coming back up to certain death, no matter what it thought or planned. That the alligator knew. That was why it continued to wait.

From just over the bottom edge of the opening a small object was raised, held by a human hand. The alligator moved slightly, tensing its muscles for the spring, but that was all. There wasn't enough of the human in sight to pounce, and the human was no doubt being cautious after its last encounter. Furthermore, the alligator wanted more of the human to eat than just a hand. It waited for more of the human to appear, so it could get a better purchase around it with its massive jaws and drag it back into the tank, where it would die and the alligator would feast. Suddenly the hand made a flipping motion and was immediately withdrawn. The object it once had held made a small arc, hit the catwalk about a foot from the alligator, and rolled towards the western wall of the room. It stopped as soon as it hit the wall and rolled no more.

The alligator looked over the object that the human had tossed into the room out of the corner of its right eye, even while keeping its main line of vision focused ahead on the opening in the wall. The object was a black metal cylinder about the size of a rat. It did not move, nor did it make any sound after it had stopped rolling and come to rest against the wall. It made the alligator think of the smoking fruits that other humans in the past had used against it, with noxious vapors that made the eyes water and the throat raw. Yet this was no fruit, good or bad, for it was not rounded the way a fruit was. It was more like a small piece of tree or pole, and made of metal at that. It wondered if this was some new kind of devilry that the humans were trying against it.

The alligator got its answer a second later, when the small cylinder exploded. Its earholes rang with the reverberating echoes of a thunderclap sounding from just under two feet away, and everything within visual range had turned blinding white in an instant. The pain was so great in its eyes that it had to close them, and it lashed about blindly with its tail trying to knock away a cylinder that was no longer there. The fact that it was now deaf and blind meant that it could only smell the human as it popped back up the ladder and through the opening, spraying darts of death from the little black box in its hand. These tore into the body of the alligator from snout to tail – and as it died, it realized that it had seriously underestimated the abilities of this particular human.

* * * * *

Farther down in the Sewers, the other alligator that had chosen to set itself in the path of a group of survivors from the old RPD station met a similar violent fate – even though the means used to achieve it were quite different. It had been resting by the next-to-last door back to the T-junction when a big male human, wearing dark blue clothing and with a strange gleam in its eye, came suddenly around the corner and threw something at it. It was a piece of abandoned sewer flow flotsam picked up at random, fair-sized and decently weighty, and it hit the beast square in the snout. With a roar that would have frightened any normal human the big alligator was up and in motion all at the same time – but by then the human had already turned and ran around the corner. This didn't matter to the alligator. It charged at full speed around the turn – and ran straight into a concentrated wall of fire from the three humans before it. Pellets from a 12-gauge shotgun blast peppered its face, front, and legs, and two shells from a Kimber .45 ACP tore good-sized holes in one shoulder and along its jaw. It was the 30-06 slug straight between the eyes and through the head that killed it more than any other impact, however. It flopped down where it was hit, thrashing and flailing wildly in mindless agony for a few minutes, until the last of the death convulsions ceased and the body stopped moving.

Together, as it seemed, Kevin, Rita, and John let out the collective breath that all of them had apparently been holding. Kevin briefly checked his Kimber, then motioned to John. "Let me reholster this and stow it again, John. I'm down to my last three slugs. You did all right with Rita's shotgun, though. I think it's a weapon more suited for you than that rifle."

John looked over at Rita, who was holding his hunting rifle like a professional sniper at arms rest, then back at Kevin. "Miss Rita shoor is a good shot. I cudn't-a done whut she jes' did."

"She's the second best shot with long guns in our little group of survivors," Kevin said with an honest smile. "Only Miss Walker is better, but she's not here and Rita's definitely better than either of us. A good twenty points higher than me on the Firing Range, and that's a fact. That's why I insisted you let her borrow your rifle just now. She stood the best chance of any of us of killing that thing, if either of us missed or something happened."

Both men looked at Rita, who had let the rifle ease down somewhat. She was actually blushing. "Awww, come on, Kevin. I'm not that good. I just practice a lot. And you can have your rifle back now, John. I only borrowed it because Kevin thought I needed to, and he's our leader." She looked at Kevin and smiled. "A leader is supposed to know best, you know."

"S'okay," John said. "You keep it fer now. An' you'll need dese, too," he said, reaching into one of his pockets and pulling out the box of 30-06 shells. "Dere's still 'bout twenty or so in dere. Ise bin tryin' ta save 'em, ya know."

"And a good thing, too." Kevin said. "You've got our last four shotgun shells in Rita's shotgun unless we find more. At least we still have a decent amount of plinker ammo," he said, patting the handle of his holstered Glock.

"But not for much longer," Rita added. "One good firefight and we're done for."

"Then let's get a move on," Kevin said, motioning up past the corpse of the alligator to the turn in the L-tunnel. "Only one more room to go, then it's the T-junction and that card key door. After that, it's hook up with Elza and the others and we're outta here."

"Ise all fer dat," John said enthusiastically.

To their great surprise, there were no enemies of any kind in the last room (or L-tunnel) through which they had to pass, in order to return to the T-junction tunnel from where they had started on their little side quest. All three felt relief at this unexpected development and it was evident on their faces; however, their apprehension grew once again as they approached the very last door back to their starting point. After a quick discussion, they decided on a plan of action. Kevin stood to one side, with his hand on the handle, with John standing in front of it with Rita's shotgun at the ready, while Rita stood back with the hunting rifle as a last-ditch line of attack.

"On the count of three," Kevin said softly, then mouthed the remaining words. "One ... two ... three!"

Kevin flung the door open and quickly dived to one side. Standing directly in front of the now-open door was a zombie dressed in the remains of a sewer worker's uniform. Its back had been to the door, however, and it had been surprised when the door suddenly flew open behind it.

"Boss!" John called, tossing Kevin the shotgun and pulling his newly named zombeh knockah from his backpack straps. Kevin caught the gun, grinning as he did so. This was John's turf, and John had already shown how well he could manage it. Best to let the big man do this his own way, and stand well clear.

The zombie had almost finished its staggering turn to face the doorway when John charged him like a bull in a china shop. One smash on the side of his head with his zombie knocker and the zombie went down with a split skull. Two more had been shambling around further up the tunnel, but had turned at the sound of the ruckus being raised and were half-shambling, half-running towards him. John met them at a full run, yelling with glee as he swung his zombie knocker left and then right, connecting both times. He disappeared into the darkened tunnel beyond, running the full length of the T-junction down to where the platform and high wall grate were both located. He was soon lost from sight, the echoes of his battle cries ringing behind him.

Both Kevin and Rita had just come through the doorway when they heard a loud curse, and then the sound of running footsteps coming back in their direction. "GUUUUYYYYYYS!?!?!!" John hollered, coming at them at full speed, his big legs pumping and his massive chest and stomach heaving as he ran. Hot on his heels was one of the giant spiders – only this one was almost twice as big as the ones they had fought before.

"DROP!!!" Kevin bellowed, whipping the shotgun down into firing position, while behind him Rita shouldered the hunting rifle, working the bolt and chambering a new round even as she did so.

John immediately dropped to the floor. The giant spider slowed, unsure of which target it should tackle - the one fallen at its long legs or the new one down the tunnel - and its hesitation proved to be a fatal mistake. There was a loud roar from the shotgun as Kevin fired, punctuated by the sharp KRAK! of the hunting rifle as Rita fired at the same time. The entire front third of the spider was torn apart by a tightly packed spread of 12-gauge shotgun pellets even as the 30-06 slug tore through the left side of its head. It dropped heavily to the floor of the tunnel and did not move again.

"Ooooofffffff!" John grunted, as one of the dead spider's massive forelimbs fell across him. The thing was as thick as a small tree trunk, and knocked a fair amount of the wind out of him as the giant spider's body came to rest on the floor. With great difficulty, he managed to extricate himself from under it, and stood back up. He shook himself, and then made the motion of dusting himself off, for he was splattered with ex-spider goo. "Gawd, but Ise hates spidahs," he grumbled, "an' ta think I has ta get smuddered by one rite hear at da end."

"It's only saying that it likes you," Kevin quipped, with a twinkle in his eye and his trademark wry smile, as both he and Rita walked up.

"Well, it ain't gonna lak no one no moar, and dat's a good thing," John grumbled. "Next time ya do dat, boss, don't do it wid me so close, okay?"

"Couldn't be helped," Kevin said. "There wasn't enough room sidewise, and you were both running out of tunnel fast."

"Oh, get over it, John," Rita added. "It's done, and it's dead. Kevin, you still got that key card?"

"Right here," Kevin said, producing it from his pocket.

Together, the three of them walked past the body of the dead giant spider and to the T-junction that dominated the tunnel section where they had first arrived in the Sewers. Kevin took the key card and stuck it into the reader. Nothing happened. He looked at the other two, and they looked back at him. He then suddenly hit the reader with his fist. A green light blinked, and they heard the door beside it unlock. Immediately Kevin grabbed it and pulled it open, lest something else happened to further deny them their exit route. He gave out a long breath, then waved with his hand. "Through here, gents and ladies," he said. "Make sure to folk your tray tables back in the upright position and unstow all luggage."

"Oh, you silly man," Rita said, smiling, as she stepped through the opened door.

John was next. "Thanks, boss."

"Sure thing," Kevin said. He stepped through himself, then closed the door behind him. As it did, all three of them heard the lock click closed again. Kevin looked at the others and smiled. "Well, that settles that," he said. "Only one way left to go now, and that's outta here."

* * * * *

Sherry involuntarily sucked in her breath as her head popped up from the ladder shaft that was set into the wall opening of the West Tank Room. She was now at eye level with the dead alligator, and its unblinking eyes seems to be staring back at her. She froze, her fear getting the better of her for the moment.

"It's all right," Elza said, from the spot where she stood to the left of the opening. She held out a hand towards Sherry. "Come on up," she encouraged. "It's dead. I killed it."

Mastering her fear, Sherry carefully climbed on up to the top of the ladder shaft. She then took Elza's outstretched hand, and using it as both pivot and balance swung herself out of the opening and onto the catwalk beside her. Behind them both, Linda's head emerged at the bottom of the opening, and she too sucked in her breath. "Shit," she managed to say at last. "No wonder you came back down the ladder so fast."

"Uh-huh," Elza replied. She continued to talk even as Linda ascended the rest of the way and then joined them on the catwalk. "I wasn't sure that a flash-bang grenade would work this time, but it looks like I got lucky."

"You get lucky a lot," Linda observed wryly.

Elza shook her head. "If that were the case, then I wouldn't have almost gotten myself killed by those spiders. I also would have found that other flash-bang I lost back in the Parking Garage, when that hunter split open my backpack and almost skewered me in the process." She reached up to her armor vest and fingered one of its pouches. "I've only got one left now. I'm going to have to be very choosy in where and against what I use it."

Linda looked around the West Tank Room. "So where do we go from here?" she asked.

Elza pointed. "Over there," she said.

Elza's index finger was directed to the corner of the room directly across from them, at the far end of its southern wall. On that end of the tank, surrounded on two of its sides by water and the other two by the room's east and south walls, was a metal platform similar in construction to the catwalk where they were standing. It was open at its northern end, but directly across from it was a rust-colored door set into the southern wall of the room, and less than two feet away from the room's southeast corner.

Linda managed to both wrinkle her nose and look disgusted at the same time. "What are we supposed to do?" she asked. "Jump or swim?" She started to say more, but the look in Elza's eye stopped her cold.

"We do neither," Elza said. "We use our brains."

For a long moment Linda just stared at Elza. Sherry kept shifting her gaze back and forth between them, wondering if they were going to start saying bad things to each other again. Linda finally shrugged her shoulders and held out her hands in a what-ev-er! gesture and said, "All right, Miss Walker. You sound like you already have this figured out. So why don't you tell me, and spare me the headache of having to try and think like you do?"

For a moment Elza's eyes flared. She looked as if she were either going to say or do something very nasty to Linda. Then she mastered her anger, and began to speak in a calm and level tone. "Miss Merton, I would be happy to keep you from straining what little brain you have any harder. You see that big crate in that alcove over there?" she said, pointing to the object in question. Linda's gaze followed the indicated direction, and she nodded. "Good," Elza continued. "What I'm going to do, and you too if I need your help, is push that crate out of the alcove, down to that end of the catwalk right by the wall, and then push it off into the tank. We can then use it as another piece of catwalk to bridge the tank, and not have as far to jump."

"And if we had another crate, we could shorten the distance still further," Linda said, in a tone that wasn't quite surly but insolent enough to make it clear she wasn't buying Elza's suggestion. "How do you know that crate is going to float? It might go straight down to the bottom of this tank, and we don't know how deep it is."

"Between four and six feet from where the water level is now, I'm figuring," Elza shot back, "no more and no less."

"But how can you know that?" Linda insisted.

"Because I've got eyes," Elza snapped back. "Didn't you notice how high that grate was down in the L-tunnel where the water flows, much less from where it's coming? It's coming from this tank," she said, stomping her foot lightly on the catwalk for emphasis. "The bottom of the tank can't be any lower than that grate is high, or the tank wouldn't be able to drain – and since it doesn't come all the way up to the catwalk, that's how I'm able to judge how deep the tank is."

"But what if it doesn't float?" Linda insisted.

"Doesn't matter," Elza almost barked. She was beginning to get exasperated with Linda again. "Even if it sinks straight to the bottom, we can always step off on it and jump from it anyway because we'll know it's there just under the water's surface! Got it?!"

Linda shook herself, then looked at Elza. She looked at the crate in the alcove, then at Elza again, then back at the crate again. She then looked past Elza and pointed. "What about in there?" she said, pointing to the opening to the left of the alcove. "Couldn't we go that way?"

"No, we can't!" Elza almost yelled – and then took a deep breath while silently counting to ten. "No, Linda, we can't," she said in a much lower and calmer voice. "Map says that goes to a hatch that covers the access for the pump machinery for this room. You know – the thing that makes the water flow through this tank right in front of us and down to where we came in? That hatch is the only way in or out from there, according to the map, and there's probably not going to be anything in there that can help us. I tell you what, though. If you want, we'll go look anyway, just to satisfy your curiosity. Fair enough?"

Linda was furiously trying to think of a way to back down without having to look like an idiot or admit to anything. She had obviously made Elza torqued with her questions, but all she had wanted were answers. She didn't know how Elza thought, or the way she came to some of the choices she made. All she wanted was things made clear, and little Miss Walker was being her usual prissy and smug self about it. Linda was not about to back down for anything under those circumstances, no matter what. So, she tried to smile as sweetly and innocently as she could and answered, "Yes. I'd like that very much. Thank you."

Elza glared at her for a moment, then turned and stalked down the catwalk in the direction of the opening in the north wall of the West Tank Room. Linda was right on her heels, and Sherry trotted close behind. The little girl was troubled, for the two grownups were arguing again, and she didn't like that at all. She didn't know why Miss Merton had to be so mean to Miss Elza sometimes. She also couldn't understand why Miss Elza had to yell at Miss Merton whenever she did anything stupid instead of trying to help her do better. Grownups were strange people, she finally decided. She hoped she would never become one.

The short hallway behind the alcove was narrow, and could only accommodate people in single file. Elza, being the first in, was naturally the first in line. When she abruptly stopped right after making the turn, both Linda and Sherry were brought up short and ran into each other. "Hello Mary, mother of God," they both heard Elza say. "What do we have here?"

"What is it?" Linda asked.

Elza turned sideways so there would be enough room for Linda to look past her. "Tell me what you see," she said.

There was a strange triumphant note in Elza's voice, and Linda for the life of her could not understand why. She looked hard, but saw nothing unusual. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be seeing," she confessed. "All I see is a floor hatch with a handwheel on it. You said there was going to be a hatch in here. What's the big deal about that?" She was about to say more, but the slow burn that was forming on Elza's face caused her to fall silent.

"Would you mind repeating what you just said?" Elza replied, very calmly and very quietly.

"I said, all I see is a hatch with a handwhe—" Linda began, and then stopped abruptly. The full import of what she had said now hit her.

Elza saw the realization wash over Linda's face, and nodded. "Aaaahhh, the little light comes on," she said sarcastically. "You know what? I'm actually glad you made me come in here, Linda. Otherwise, I might have missed this little prize. Now get me my tools, will ya, and let's get this thing off."

* * * * *

The three of them were running as fast as they could towards the floor-to-ceiling barred grate far ahead. "Just a little farther!" Kevin encouraged, his brow wet with sweat.

"Right behind you," called Rita – and in fact she was. She had kept up with him the whole way, and like him both her brow and arms were wet with perspiration.

"I'm-a cummin' ... wait up ... !!!" called John from about twenty feet back. He was puffing and chugging right along, but he was nowhere near being in the peak physical shape of the two police officers. What kept him from stopping altogther was the padding of many shod, partially shod, and unshod feet behind them, as well as the moans and groans coming from that direction.

Kevin was the first to reach the door in the grate. He yanked the handle up and the door opened. He held it open wide as Rita ran through. "C'mon, John!" he called. "They're gaining!"

Somewhere from within him John managed to find an extra reserve of strength. He almost sprinted the rest of the way to the open door and then through it. Kevin was right behind him, slamming it shut and twisting the handle before the three of them disappeared around the corner. If their luck held, and it had been doing so for the past few minutes, then this particular pack of zombies wouldn't be able to remember how to work a twist handle. They would be trapped behind the bars in the run-off tunnel, while the three humans would be long gone and beyond their grasp.

The side tunnel was a good five minutes or so behind them at a dead run when Kevin finally slowed to a stop. He leaned on his knees, breathing heavily. Rita stopped right beside him and leaned against the nearest wall, also breathing heavily. About twenty seconds later, John staggered up, saw that the other two had stopped, and promptly fell to his hands and knees. All anyone did was pant and gasp for a while. Eventually Kevin stood back up and turned back in the direction from where they had come. He walked past the wheezing John and cupped his hand to his ear, listening.

"Any ... sign ... of pursuit?" Rita said between deep breaths.

Kevin shook his head, and held up his other hand in a stopping motion, beckoning the other two to be quiet. Both tried to soften their heavy breathing as best they could, although it was particularly hard on the unfit John. He leaned back on the balls of his feet, still with his knees to the ground, and held his sides in a determined effort to deaden his wheezing. He stayed like that until Kevin uncupped his hand from his ear and turned back towards them. "I don't hear any," he announced. "I think we're all right."

John let out the large portion of his breath that he had been holding back in a big whooosshhh! "Awww, gawd," he groaned, still trying to find his breath. "Ise hope ... we doan ... ever ... hafta ... do dat ... agin!"

Rita laughed softly. "It was your idea, John, as I remember. Something about saving ammo, and how it might be better to dodge and run from the zombies, rather than fight them?"

"Don't ... remind me ... " John gasped. He twisted around into a sitting position, resting his folded arms on his bent knees and then let his head sag onto them. "Oh, gawd ... I'm beat ...."

"Well, it was a good idea, and it worked," Kevin said. He walked up to John, then reached down and firmly gripped one of the big man's shoulders. "Thanks."

All John did was nod. He was too worn out to talk anymore.

Rita pulled herself away from the wall where she had been leaning and walked over beside Kevin. She looked down at the still-panting John, then looked up at Kevin with a smile. She didn't say a word, but he knew what her eyes were saying. He smiled back and gave her a wink. "I think we made it folks," he said. "I don't know if anybody's noticed, but this sure looks like a main storm drain to me."

The tunnel where the three now rested was at least twice as tall and three to four times as wide as the one they had just left. It was in fact big enough for a good-sized commercial truck to drive through, and with plenty of room to spare on either side. It had straight concrete walls and a smooth concrete ceiling, with the top corners sloped so that the resulting angle in the wall ran parallel to both the walls and ceiling. There was hardly a trace of any scum to be seen anywhere, alive or dead, and even the amount of flotsam on the floors, and piled up into any convenient crevice was far less than it had been in the lower tunnels. It went back the way they came until the end was lost in darkness, and the way ahead likewise faded away into the unseen and unknown.

John's breathing had finally slowed enough so it was halfway normal, and he now looked up. "Yer rite ... boss," he said. With an effort, he got back up on his feet. "Looks lak one uv da upshoah main rivah drains." Almost instinctively, one of his hands went to the back of his neck and started scratching. "Ise say we is widin a mile o' da river, prob'bly a lot less. Miss Elza shoah did a good job o' readin' dat sistern map."

"Well, looks like we were right about all of those dockside gang zombies we were running into down there," Kevin said. He put his hands on his hips and looked around, taking in more of their surroundings. "I dunno. Maybe if we had tried one of those side tunnels out of where they were coming instead of going back the way we came, we could have done better."

"And we could of gotten lost as a goose, too," Rita chided. "Elza would have said something had there been a better way out of there. Speaking of which, we'd better call her. Didn't you say we'd get back in touch if one or the other of us made it to the storm drains first?"

"That I did," Kevin said, reaching for his radio.

Rita followed Kevin's lead in unclipping her own radio from her gunbelt and holding it up. As for John, he pulled his from his back pocket and held it in front of him. As soon as he turned it on, however, the formerly waterlogged radio made a fierce feedback squeal. John hastily turned it off, then looked at the others, who were staring at him. He shrugged. "So? Dat's better den it wuz doin'. Mebbe it's dryin' out."

"Maybe," Kevin said. "Look, why don't you share with Rita for now?"

"Good idea," Rita said, then shifted the position of her radio in her hand. "Get over here, John. Plenty of room on this party line."

Even as John repocketed his radio and moved in beside Rita, Kevin keyed his mike. "Elza, this is Kevin. We've made it to the storm drains. Elza, this is Kevin. Do you read me, over?"

They waited. Almost half a minute later, there was a crackle from the radio as its speaker came to life. No one spoke at first, and all they could hear were the type of sounds one might associate with somebody fumbling with an open mike. That soon stopped, though, and was replaced by a occasional half-indistinct clinking and clanging, occasionally punctuated by a female voice spitting out some very unladylike language. It was a little girl's voice instead of Elza's that sounded from the speaker, strong and clear, as if she were holding the radio.

"Officer Ryman? This is Sherry Birkin. Miss Elza and Miss Merton are busy right now, so they had me answer the radio."

The three in the storm drain looked at each other. John had yet to meet Sherry, so he had no clue as to who was talking other than what few mentions Kevin or Rita had made of the little girl. Rita was looking at Kevin with an expression that all but said out loud, "Do you want me to handle this?" Kevin shook his head, and keyed his mike again. "Uh, Sherry? This is Officer Ryman. Can you tell me what Miss Elza and Miss Merton are doing?"

The reply was immediate. "They're trying to take the handwheel off of a hatch in here where Miss Elza killed the big alligator. We need to work the spinning bridge so we can all go to the Control Room, and find out how to get out of here."

"Sounds like they've been having as much fun as we have," Rita said quietly. "Even so, I don't have a clue what she's talking about."

"Me neither," Kevin said. He then spoke into the radio. "Sherry, did they say how long it would take?"

"No sir – wait a minute. I think they've almost got it off."

A few seconds later, they heard a heavy clang! It was followed almost immediately by the sound of a young female voice cursing like a seasoned sailor. It was occasionally counterpointed by a second female voice, deeper and huskier, but at present with a rather obvious whining tone that made it anything but pleasant. Sherry spoke again, and revealed the mystery behind the sounds. "They just got the handwheel off, sir, but Miss Merton tripped when they did, and it hit Miss Elza in the shin." She stopped speaking as the sounds of the cursing voice came closer, accented by the soft thumping of a limping gait, and then Sherry spoke again. "Miss Elza wants the radio back."

"Okay," Kevin said, and waited.

A few seconds later, Elza's voice sounded over the speaker. Despite the electronic distortion, it was obvious that she was very upset, and was not doing a very good job of keeping both her temper and the pain of her freshly barked shin in check. "Stupid bitch! .... Elza here," she practically spat.

"This is Kevin," Kevin said. "We made it to the storm drains. What's your progress?"

"Going nowhere fast, and getting there faster all the time, goddammit!" Elza barked. "We're stopped in our tracks because that damn fool boss of John's ripped out the access ladder and replaced it with some kind of spinning bridge shit, and I've only just now found the damn handwheel to work it – no thanks to Little Miss Graceless here – and not to mention having to kill that fuckin' alligator that was camping out by the tank in here, and—"

Suddenly Rita keyed her mike. "Calm down, Elza," she said, interrupting the younger woman. "Get a grip on yourself. You're angry and upset, and you're not making as much sense as you might think. Now breathe in deep, count to ten, and start over, okay?"

Over the radio they heard the husky voice of the other woman – Linda Merton, as Elza had named her. "I don't think she can count that high."

"QUIET, YOU!!!" Elza roared. This was followed by the the very loud sound of Elza taking a deep breath, then letting it back out again. "All right," she said when it was done, "let's try that again."

"I need a progress report, Miss Walker," Kevin said, maintaining a professional calm in his own voice while masking his own increasing sense of frustration. "What's the situation on your end? What's holding you up?"

There was the sound of Elza taking another deep breath, and then she spoke. "Okay. Right now, according to the Sewers system map, we're in the West Tank Room. This is the only room that connects to the North Canal – and that's is the only way for us to get out of here and down to the storm drains where you are now. The two are connected by a large drain vent, and we'll have to open and go through that to get out. Right now we can't get into the North Canal because the West Tank is full, and that means the canal must be full, too, so our only way out of here is flooded. I'm going to have to drain this part of the system in order to get at that drain vent at the bottom of the tank. To do that, though, we need to turn on the system pumps in order to start the draining process, and those have to be run from the Control Room. That's why we're stuck halfway right now, still trying to get up to the Control Room so we can do everything I just described."

Elza paused to catch her breath, and Kevin decided it would be a good time to ask a pertinent question. "Is that where this spinning bridge both you and Sherry mentioned comes in?"

"Yes, Kevin. It's located in the Central Hub. It connects many of the main passages down here. There used to be a ladder that you could climb up and down between levels, but that was removed sometime back and replaced by a large bridge on a rotating piston. It moves up and rotates into position for the catwalk edge on each level depending on where they're located. That's why we've called it the spinning bridge. Normally it's probably operated from the Control Room, but there's a manual backup that will let you raise and lower the bridge by using a standard handwheel. That's what we were doing right now when you called. We found a handwheel on one of the access hatches for another part of the system, and I think it's the right size to work the manual control for the spinning bridge. Does that make sense?"

Kevin nodded, even though Elza couldn't see him. Beside him Rita too was nodding, while John was mouthing the word, "Oooooohhhh ...." Kevin keyed his mike again. "We got the picture, Elza. What's next on your end?"

"Well, now that we've got the handwheel, we can work the spinning bridge. I'm going to get to the Control Room and set the system to drain, then head back down to the Main Pump Room if I need to and make sure it starts up. Once I do that, the system should start draining. After that, once it drains, then all we have to do is hop into the West Tank and go through that drain vent into the now-empty North Canal, and from their head your way."

Kevin saw Rita motion at him, and he spoke. "Rita's got a question for you, Elza"

"Go ahead."

Rita keyed her own mike. "Elza, what if you can't get that drain vent open in that tank you're talking about?"

There was a slight pause, and then Elza replied. "I've thought about that, but I don't think there's anything blocking that vent anymore. After all, that alligator had to get in here somehow."

"The one you killed," Kevin added.

"Yeah. As big and strong as it was, I'm willing to bet it tore its way in here through that drain. That's why I don't think the vent will be blocked anymore. I mean, according to the map, there's no other way in here from the North Canal. I've still got my tools, though, just in case I'm wrong. Don't worry, Kevin – we're gonna get out of here. It's just taking us a lot longer than either of us would like, and far longer than I care."

"That makes two of us," Kevin said, "but it can't be helped. Say, is there any way we could come down from our end and give you a hand?"

"Not a chance. Remember, the North Canal is flooded, and that's the only other way in and out of here. You could try, but you couldn't make it all the way. I think you'd be better off staying where you are, and us letting you know once we're clear and on the way. We can then hook up somewhere inside the far end of the North Canal - hopefully the dry end - once we're out of here."

Kevin looked at his companions. Both nodded in agreement with Elza's suggestion. He then spoke into his radio again. "All right. You're on the spot, so it's your call – but if you're not out of there in an hour, you call us. Got it?"

"Got it, Kevin. Elza, out."

Kevin lowered his radio and hung it back on his belt. He watched as Rita did the same, a thoughtful expression on his face. John was the first to notice it. "Sumfun' buggin' ya, boss?" he asked.

"Not really," Kevin said. "I'm just trying to figure out what I'm going to do next if they can't make it out of there." He looked at both of them, and they both noted the serious expression he now wore. "I have no intention of leaving anybody behind," he stated, and he meant it. "If they can't come to us, then we're just going to have to figure out a way to get to them."

"With little to no ammunition to fight with and running out fast, and a flooded tunnel between us?" Rita said. She sighed, and then shook her head. "I dunno, Kevin. I hope you're not planning something stupid."

"Since when have I done anything stupid?" Kevin said, with as straight a face as the twist in his wry smile would let him.

"How 'bout running straight into the arms of a waiting zombie?" Rita shot back, then grinned broadly. "Three times, Mister Ryman?"

Kevin paused, then grinned himself and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, okay," he replied, with a lilt of amusement in his voice. "You got me." He then shot her a wink. "Third time's the charm?"

"Oh, Kevin," Rita pretended to grumble, but there was laughter in her voice as she did so. She laid a hand on one of his arms, and he clasped it with one of his own. "Just remember," she added, shooting him a conspiratorial wink in reply. "The only arms I want around you from now on are mine."

John too was now grinning. "Youse two wants me ta leave?" he asked, with a smirk on his face.

Both Kevin and Rita looked at him at the same time – and then all three of them broke out laughing.

* * * * *

"Together now! HEAVE!"

The two women grimaced and grunted as they put their backs to the heavy crate yet again. Legs straining to extend to the full, they pushed with all of their might. The crate lurched forward another foot or two, and then stopped.

Elza looked around, checking their progress. "All right," she panted, "switch sides. We've gone far enough on the catwalk. Now we push it into the tank. One good push, maybe two. Come on, Linda – let's do this and get it over with."

"Come on, Linda," mocked the woman beside her, and then she reverted to the same whine she had been using for the past ten minutes – ever since Elza had all but man-handled her into helping move the crate. "I'm a woman. I'm not built for manual labor."

"If you can figure out another way to get the boys down here—" Elza began in a testy voice.

"Oh, shut up," Linda snapped. "I've got the picture. I don't have to like it though."

She took another deep breath, and then joined Elza in the small gap between the moved crate and the north wall of the West Tank Room. This time, however, instead of standing on the floor of the catwalk, the wall was so close that both Elza and Linda were forced to literally crouch in the gap with their feet flat against the wall itself. Elza secretly hoped that the extra leverage provided by this new angle would be all that they needed – because Linda's constant mouthing ever since the bit with the handwheel was finally getting on her nerves. If Linda kept going the way she was, Elza swore to herself, she was going to do more to the little bitch than slap the snot out of her like last time.

"One, two, THREE!! HEAVE!!!"

It proved to be enough. Without warning, the crate kept going even though they stopped pushing. Both fell heavily to the catwalk deck, and were almost immediately splashed with a large amount of untreated sewer water as the crate slid off of the open end of the catwalk and fell into the tank. Elza merely groaned and coughed, but Linda came up spluttering and cursing. "Jeezuz-freakin'-gawdamn-shit – I'M ALL WET!!!"

"So am I," Elza observed quietly, easing herself up in a sitting position. Both her upper back and rump were sore from falling after the crate shot out from under them, and she strongly suspected Linda's felt the same. "Take a chill pill, Linda."

"Take a – WHAT?!" Linda whirled and glared at the other woman, who remained seated on the catwalk, both knees bent and and one of her arms resting on one. The hand that belonged to her other arm was currently engaged in removing some sewage muck from the clasps of one of her biker boots. "Miss Walker," Linda bellowed, "If we ever link up with your friends out there, then I want to go with someone else! Understand?!"

Elza slowly turned her head to look up at Linda. The woman looked ridiculous, like a old hen caught in a rainstorm trying to ruffle its soaked feathers. She sounded ridiculous, too, with her apparent self-righteous indignation and all. Elza considered which would be best – to get mad, like she almost always wound up getting whenever Linda got this way, or to face her head-on with her own stupidity and get it over with. She chose the latter. "Miss Merton," she began, in a coldly even tone, her eyes leveled at the older woman, "I think that's the best idea you've had since I had to drag you out of your own puddle of piss back in the Parking Garage." And with that she turned her head, and commenced cleaning her boots again.

Linda's jaw dropped. She started to say something, stopped, stood there with her mouth open for several seconds, then slowly shut it. Her eyes began to water, and then she abruptly turned and dashed into the alcove where the hatch was located, both hands going to her face even as she ran. Sherry walked up even as the sounds of a woman crying began to drift through the alcove doorway. She stooped beside Elza, and there was a serious look on her face. "Miss Elza," Sherry said in a quiet voice, "that wasn't very nice what you said to Miss Linda."

"No, Sherry, it wasn't," Elza said. She stopped cleaning her boots, turned her head, and locked eyes with the little girl. "But it was either that or have another one of our running arguments, and frankly I'm just about as tired of those as I know you must be." She sighed. "She's right, you know. She needs to go with someone else ... otherwise, I just might end up killing her myself."

"Miss Elza!" Sherry exclaimed.

Elza smiled and managed a halfhearted chuckle. "Just kidding, Sherry. Exaggeration for emphasis. Hyperbole encouraged by Miss Merton's all-too-close association with hysteria. Even so ... I hope Linda will somehow prove more useful than she had been so far. Otherwise this is going to be one very long escape from Raccoon City."

* * * * *

"... an' by da time he turned 'round agin, th' beam had swung back, an' BAM!!! It knocked 'im ovah agin, jes' like in da movies!" John exclaimed, hitting his hand with his fist for emphasis. He laughed, and both Kevin and Rita laughed with him.

The three of them were seated in an alcove in the storm drain not far from the entrance to the North Canal. They were passing the time telling stories. There had been no zombies, nor infected animals, nor monsters, nor anything else that had come along to threaten them. Even if it had, the sheer size of the storm drain and the fact that it was partially lit would help give them plenty of warning if any foe decided to put in an appearance.

Rita was laughing so hard that she was holding her sides. "And ... when he got back up ..." she began, giggling almost uncontrollably.

"Da beam ... had already swung back ... an' hit 'im agin!" John guffawed, again slamming his hand into his fist with a loud smack!

Kevin too was laughing, although he was doing a better job of staying in control of himself than were his friends. "So," he said between chuckles, "how many times ... did he end up ... getting hit?"

"Seven!" John roared, then began laughing so hard that his eyes became moist. He slapped one knee with one hand, still laughing. "Bill wuz in da hospital fer a week!"

All three of them laughed long and hard. It seemed like forever when they had last laughed. Not forever, perhaps – but only a lifetime. A lifetime where things had been normal, Raccoon City had been normal, and its normal citizens went about their normal lives and conducted normal affairs. Not anymore. That reality was gone, replaced by the uncertainty of the Outbreak, and who knew what lay beyond that? So the three of them found a small piece of restful solace to comfort them, memories and tales of that reality now lost, while they waited for their friends to join them.

Rita's giggling fit finally subsided, and she was able to talk normally again. "Oh, John," she said, her voice tinged with mirth, "that's one of the funniest stories I've ever heard! And to think that it really happened!"

"Uh-huh!" John grinned.

"I'm sure your friend Bill never forgot it," Kevin commented, but he too was grinning from ear to ear.

"How cud he?" John said with a straight face. "Hell, ever nurse in da hospital kept remindin' him of it."

Rita almost started laughing again. "Oh, man," she exclaimed, as she controlled herself. "I don't know anything that could top that."

"Nor I," Kevin said. "Mr. Kendo, I hereby award you first prize in the Raccoon City Outbreak Storytelling Contest for Funniest True Story." He raised his hands in a mock gesture of public approval. "Three cheers for Jonathan Kendo!"

"Hear, hear, hear!" Rita said almost immediately, clapping her hands.

John visibly blushed. "Aww, shucks," he said, dipping his head as if he were looking for a nearby sandpile in which to stick it. "Youse guys is too much."

Rita's joyful expression suddenly disappeared as a serious look rapidly swept it away. "That reminds me," she said. "I wonder how Elza and the others are doing?"

Kevin breathed in deeply, and then let the air back out again. "No way to tell," he said. He checked his watch, then looked at Rita. "They've got plenty of time still."

An uncomfortable silence now fell over the trio seated in the alcove, each contemplating their own thoughts. Kevin stared at the opposite wall, looking at nothing in particular. Rita smiled as John pulled out his radio and began fumbling with it again, trying to make it work as it had done before it got wet. The thing had almost become an obsession with him, and he was beginning to fiddle with it every time they paused for any appreciable length of time. She tapped the big man on one of his arms and he looked up, but she had a finger to her lips in the age-old gesture of silence. She nodded at the radio, waited a bit, then pointed to herself and nodded in Kevin's direction. John thought about it for a few seconds, and then his mouth formed a silent "Oooohhh!" He grinned and winked at Rita, then went back to fiddling with his radio.

Kevin turned as Rita slid into place beside him near the end of the alcove. "You look like a man lost in the sea of his own thoughts," she said. "Need someone to reef the sail while you stay at the rudder?"

Kevin gave her a quizzical look. "I didn't know you'd ever been sailing, Rita."

"Oh, I've done lots of things you don't know about, Mr. Ryman," she said, moving a little closer to him. They were now practically side-by-side, and she could feel his presence just as much as she knew he must be feeling hers. "That'll be part of the fun you know – comparing notes, seeing where we match, and where we don't. You know, I've always heard that opposites attract, but it's been my experience that likes do far more attracting than opposites." She smiled, "I was not unlike you when I was your age, Kevin. We're a lot more alike in certain ways than you might suspect. There will be the differences, too, of course. Like the sailing bit, maybe." She leaned back, looking to a wonderful place far in her distant past. "I used to go to Mobile in the summers. That's where Aunt Joyce and Uncle Jerry lived. Uncle Jerry had a boathouse and a sailboat down on the ocean, and he used to take me sailing at times. He even taught me how to sail. Oh, I've forgotten most of it now, but some of it's still there – and I've never forgotten what it's like to be out there riding the waves, with only the wind to drive you, dancing across the foam and listening to the keening of the gulls overhead, weaving in and out of your masts, and – I'm not boring you, am I?"

"No, not at all," Kevin said, and smiled. "Sounds like fun. In fact, that sounds a lot like whenever I'm out riding my bike out on the open road, and nobody else is around, so I can really open her up and let her go. Just me and the road, with the wind whipping by, that big Harley motor throbbing between my legs, and freedom everywhere I look." He stopped speaking, drinking in the recalled sensations of the memories of his most recent long ride.

"Almost sounds like two sides of the same coin," Rita said. She put one arm around Kevin and leaned her head on his shoulder.

Kevin did not protest. Instead, his arm slipped around her slender waist, and he gently squeezed her. "Better be careful," he warned with a wink and a wry smile. "You don't want to go down this road too far right now."

"Don't worry, I won't," she said, snuggling up to him. "But can you think of a better way to pass the time other than watching John try to fix his poor radio?"

"I can think of at least a dozen different ways," he said, leaning his own head on hers. "Not that we'll do any of them down here, of course."

"Of course," she purred. "We could always swing by Mickey Sullivan's motel on the way out of town – provided it hasn't been overrun, of course."

"That fleabag?" Kevin said. He lifted his head back up and turned to look at Rita, incredulity dancing across his features. "Why in the world would you want to go there? Hell, half the shady goings-on around here take place because of meetings and encounters that happen at A Day in Raccoon, Rita. You know that."

"It's also a place where a lot of couples hook up," Rita said, turning up her face to look at him, with a smile on her lips and a gleam in her eye. "Couples needing to be discreet, that is. You know Mickey. He's never revealed anything that's happened there, legal or not, and has never told any secret that's been trusted to him."

"Oh yeah, I know Mr. Sullivan," Kevin said, drawing out the words as he spoke. "There's not too many people left on the force who've both tried to question him about something that happened at A Day in Raccoon and absolutely failed to get any answers out of that stubborn old cuss."

"Would it surprise you to know that some of the folks on the force are among his regulars?" Rita said, grinning as she did so. "That's where Enrico and Alana started their honeymoon. And I can name at least a dozen others, both male and female, who have availed themselves of Mr. Sullivan's discretion." Her voice now took on a conspiratorial tone. "And that's where Chris and Jill finally did the horizontal tango before they officially went to being 'just friends,' you know."

Kevin's jaw dropped. "You're shittin' me."

The grinning Rita shook her head. "No shit, Sherlock. It was on the Fourth of July weekend. They checked in Friday night, and didn't come back out again until early Tuesday morning at oh-dark-thirty. Even had their meals brought to them, and wouldn't let in the cleaning service until after they were gone. They left their room neat as a pin, too, from what I heard. Guess they didn't want to leave any evidence behind for folks to find."

Kevin still couldn't believe what he was hearing. "How do you know all of this?" he finally managed to get out.

"You know Ginger Sullivan?"

Kevin thought a moment. "Is that the woman with the long black hair who manages the apartment building next to Jack's place?"

"Uh-huh. She's Mickey Sullivan's daughter. In fact, he owns that apartment building and several others downtown, and she manages them for him. Don't you ever stop and read any of those police reports that cross your desk, Kevin? You might have learned a few things if you had."

"Only what I have to of 'em," Kevin said, "and then I skim 'em for only what I need to get the job done. I hate paperwork, and try to have as little to do with it as possible."

"That's half your problem there," Rita chided. "You're irresponsible." She sighed, then continued. "Anyway, Ginger's got a daughter named Kayla, who has a regular part-time summer job at her Grandpa Mickey's motel doing general cleaning and room service and stuff. She was the one who saw Chris and Jill check in, and she also wound up doing most of their room service for them. She said she sometimes heard the usual bumping and grinding noises coming from their room - you know what I mean - and one time, when she came to them for room service, Chris answered the door wearing nothing but long-legged pajama bottoms while Jill was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing nothin' but the tops of those same pajamas and watching TV. And when they finally checked out, they tipped Kayla pretty good to keep her mouth shut about the whole thing, too."

"Well, now ..." Kevin said, and he couldn't help but smile, "I'd say all the circumstantial evidence Miss Kayla presented points to a clear-cut case of consensual copulation."

Rita giggled. "Oh, you funny man," she said, with a twinkle in her eye. "You know what they say. Farewell sex is the best sex, because that's when all the normal rules go out the window. Anything goes, so long as it's within reason and both partners agree. That's the fun part – and I'll bet that's why they hid themselves away all Fourth of July weekend. Now they'll no longer have to wonder what might have happened or what might have been. They'll always have that last wonderful weekend together as a couple. That's the joy of farewell sex."

"I wouldn't know," Kevin deadpanned – then broke into a grin when Rita gave him a curious stare. "I've never been in a relationship long enough to require it. Anyway, how did you find out about Chris and Jill's last night together? Nobody else on the force knew about it."

"Wesker did," Rita promptly responded, "and he was mad as hell, too. Called 'em both into the STARS Office and gave them one hell of a dressing-down once they came back on duty. You know – the regular fraternization lecture, but with extras? That's what I think happened, anyway. Both Barry and Rebecca were there when Wesker practically ran them out of there, but they didn't know why they had to leave, they didn't actually hear anything that was said, and Chris and Jill never explained any of it to them. All they knew is that both of 'em came out of there about fifteen minutes later grinning like idiots, and then Wesker came out shortly after that looking mad enough to chew up and spit out a whole keg of nails. Both of 'em could guess as good as anybody, given that Chris and Jill were still an item then - they didn't officially break up until a few days later, you know - but I never told either of them the full story." She smirked. "Personally I think Wesker wanted to do Jill himself and was insanely jealous at Chris for beating him to it. That's just my opinion – but you know Wesker. He had to have his say on the matter, hence his little temper tantrum."

"And that brings us back to my original question," Kevin said. "How did you find out?"

"Kayla told her mother about it, and her mother told me the last time I visited with her at the apartments," Rita said. "She also gave Ginger the tip money, because she didn't feel right about keeping it. Ginger gave it right back to her and told her she had earned it, to keep her mouth shut like she promised, and not to tell anyone else about it. And she didn't, either."

"Except for her mom, and her mom told you."

"Well ... I haven't told anyone else since ... until now, that is."

Kevin laughed. "Well, this particular tale stops with me." He then turned and said, "Unless you're planning on spreading it further, John."

The big man had long ago stopped pretending to work on his radio. He had inched significantly closer the whole time that Rita had been speaking, and the way that he was sitting made it clear that he was obviously hanging on every word that Kevin and Rita spoke. He almost fell off the elbow on which he was leaning as he strained to listen, surprised at being caught in the act. He finally managed to stammer, "I, ah, I, uhmm, uhhh – I woan tell a soul! Promise!"

Kevin and Rita looked at each other, and then laughed. John looked puzzled, but then he too started laughing. After a while, however, the laughter died down and the storm drain grew quiet again.

"It's bin a long time since we heerd from Miss Elza," John finally ventured.

"Yes," Kevin answered, "it has."

* * * * *

The five zombies were scattered in various places down the length of the short tunnel, resting and gathering what strength they had left. What remained of their clothes and heavy work boots were now heavily stained both with sewage and their own urine and feces. They had been trapped inside the tunnel for four days – so long that they had forgotten everything save for the ever-present hunger that gnawed at them both when awake and at rest. They had already fairly thoroughly picked over the bones of three of their former companions, and had even gone so far as to break and suck clean as many of the bones as they could of any marrow. Now they sat hither and yon in the tunnel and eyed each other warily. One of them was about to become dinner for the others fairly soon, if something didn't change – and all of them were determined that it was going to be one of the others instead.

They had originally been a work gang of eight sewer system workers who had been sent down here to repair the malfunctioning floodgate located halfway down the tunnel. The work detail had been assigned the same afternoon as the first day of the Outbreak, however, and unknown to them, one of their number had already been infected when they had arrived, set up their tools, and begun to work on the floodgate. He had subsequently turned and infected the others, and before the night was out all of them had "gone zombie." He had also been the first to die, for the others had fallen on him in their half-remembered anger over their plight, and literally torn him from limb to limb. After that the mental deterioration of the infected survivors had proceeded quite rapidly. By the time morning came, what little was left of the T-virus ravaged minds of the survivors had been reduced to working on a purely instinctive level. They couldn't remember how to open the doors in order to get back out of the tunnel again, or anything else for that matter – including such small sanitary items as the proper way to go to the bathroom. All they could do from that point on was sleep, eat, and wait ... and not necessarily in that order, either.

The sound of the door latch being worked at the far end of the tunnel caused all five to sit upright. They began to half-shuffle, half-crawl to their feet as the door opened, and inside stepped a still-human woman wearing biker boots, bright red-and-white firesuit pants, the remains of a black tee-shirt with a dark sports bra showing now and again through several tears and holes, and a dirty-looking brown leather jacket – and over that was a RPD Molle-type armor vest that was badly damaged on the right shoulder. All had been splashed or soaked with sewer water at some point, and the woman's hair was still damp with it. She immediately brought her autopistol to bear and grinned at them. "Hello, boys," she said cheerfully. "I believe you wanted me for dinner?" All five of the zombies charged at once – and all five went down under a withering fusillade of nine-millimeter autopistol fire.

After the initial round of shooting stopped, and the two zombies that were still mobile were trying to stagger back up on their damaged limbs, Elza Walker grinned broadly at them. She ejected the empty clip in her Ingram MAC-11/9, put it back in her ammo vest, pulled a fresh one, and then slammed it home up the base of her autopistol's grip. "It's so nice to be fighting normal zombies for a change!" she declared, even as she took aim and opened fire again.

\--------------------

Chapter 14 - Revenge

Elza's plan had been fairly straightforward. She would jump across the West Tank via the now-in-place crate to the platform on the other side, and then go through the door to the Sewers tunnel that lay just beyond. It ran parallel to the North Canal but was a full level higher, and had a side door that opened onto the northern of the two high platforms in the Central Hub. That is how Elza would get back into the Central Hub, save that she would now be in a position to go across to the other platform and thereby gain access to the Sewers Control Room. All she needed to do after that was to raise the spinning bridge in the Central Hub – and that is where the second half of Elza's plan came into play. At the same time that she was making her way to the upper part of the Central Hub, Linda and Sherry would backtrack down the ladder shaft to the L-tunnel. From there they could return to the lower level of the Central Hub – only they would be bringing the handwheel with them. The handwheel would then be used to raise the spinning bridge, Elza would cross it and get into the Control Room – and if their luck held, there would be controls in there for her to lower the spinning bridge, let Linda and Sherry get on it, and then raise it again so they too would be brought up and be able to get to the Control Room with Elza. It sounded simple enough, and as far as Elza was concerned the only real problem on her part was how many zombies or other creatures she would have to fight in the access tunnel in order to reach the upper Central Hub door located there. There was only one fly in the ointment, to borrow the popular expression – but it was a very large gadfly who once started kept right on buzzing and never stopped. That gadfly was Linda.

As far as Linda was concerned, Elza had literally shoved her plan down her throat without so much as a by-your-leave or any consideration for what Linda might have felt or wanted to say on the matter. She had practically dragged the woman out of the alcove to "tell her the way it's going to be," as Linda thought of it, gave Linda her marching orders, then dashed off down the catwalk. She had ran to the end, turned as she ran, was still running when she hit the crate and jumped, and therefore made a clean and graceful landing on the far platform with plenty of room to spare. "Get your ass in gear, Linda, or I'll beat you there," Elza had called at her, before she opened the door and passed through. After that, there had been nothing save the occasional muffled burst of automatic weapons fire. Linda had looked down at the heavy handwheel and then at Sherry, but Sherry had simply shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just a little girl," she said, as if reading Linda's mind. "I can barely pick that up, and I can't carry it far."

Grumbling and cursing under her breath, half-carrying and half-dragging the damn thing, Linda staggered over to the ladder shaft. Here she had to pause and think for a moment. She wanted very badly to just shove the thing off the edge and let it fall, but she knew it would probably get damaged when it hit bottom – and Elza would be hopping mad if that happened. This meant carrying the thing down a full floor's worth of height, balanced on a narrow metal ladder with only one hand free to grip the side rail and the other being constantly weighed down by ... no, wait a minute. There was a way, provided her strength held. She managed to get the thing over to the edge of the ladder shaft and set it down. Sherry trotted up, a worried look on her face.

"How are we going to get that down there?" Sherry asked.

"We?" Linda said, half-laughing the word. She was being sarcastic and she knew it. "You ... you go on down, Sherry. I'll be down shortly with the wheel."

"Yes, ma'am."

Again Linda cursed under her breath. Being called madam, even in abbreviated form, made her feel so old. She waited until Sherry was already well down the ladder, and then she too got on it. She let herself down until her right shoulder was even with the handwheel, then very carefully threaded her right arm through it between the wheel and two of its four spokes. Fortunately, it had been a good-sized handwheel, but even so it was a snug fit on her shoulder. Very carefully, she lifted up a bit on the ladder and pulled back, letting her shoulder take the full weight of the handwheel, then began easing herself down the ladder.

It felt like someone had tied a sack of bricks directly above her right arm and was pulling down hard even as she tried to climb down. She couldn't remember either one of her shoulders hurting that much in all of her life. She managed to get down the ladder shaft and then had to stop. Sherry gave her a questioning look. "Are you all right, Miss Linda?"

"No!" Linda barked, levering the heavy handwheel onto one of the higher ladder rungs. Sherry started and shrank back in fear. Linda tried to both lower her voice and smooth her angry expression. "No, Sherry. This is really heavy, and I'm not used to carrying heavy things." Sherry nodded, but said nothing.

Linda had to switch shoulders she was using to carry the handwheel for the next and final leg of their journey back to the Central Hub. This time, she didn't even try to jump across the central channel in the L-tunnel. Not that she could have – the heavy handwheel would have caused her to go off-balance and fall over, and she was sure of it. Instead, she simply dropped down into the channel, waded across, then somehow climbed back up on the other side. She was already wet anyway from that business with the crate back up in the West Tank Room - damn Elza! - so getting even more wet wasn't going to change anything save how long it took her to dry out. The unencumbered Sherry had already jumped across while Linda was still struggling with her load, and she now followed the little girl through the double-wide corridor to the Central Hub, trying to keep her eyes locked straight ahead instead of wandering to the bodies and other various remains of the giant spiders that Elza had fought in there earlier.

The muffled sounds of automatic weapons fire had stopped some time ago, and Elza was already waiting for them on the north upper platform when Sherry and Linda finally arrived, walking through the double lower doors of the Central Hub. "Where have you guys been?" she called from above. "What took so long?"

"Miss Linda is having problems carrying the handwheel," Sherry called up to her.

"I'll say," Linda growled, perhaps a bit louder than she should have. She wrestled it over to the spindle mount on the handrail support nearest the platform edge and then stopped. "Well?" she barked at Sherry. "Give me a hand, girl, before I drop this thing into the tank."

"You'd better not," Elza said from above. "If you do, then you're going to swim for it."

"Hell if I do," Linda snapped. With Sherry helping to steady and balance the handwheel on the spindle mount's edge, Linda carefully extracted her arm from inside it. Both shoulders now hurt like hell, and it was all she could do to help Sherry lift and then move its base axle into the matching hole in the spindle mount. It fit in snugly, and Linda let go. Sherry's arms were suddenly jerked downward and she yelped in pain as the wheel dropped neatly and firmly into the spindle mount.

"Oooooowwwww!" Sherry cried, quickly backing away and waving her arms. "That hurt!"

"Linda, be careful!" Elza cried. "Don't hurt her!"

"I didn't!" Linda snapped back. "All it did was drop into place! She should've let go sooner."

"Or you could have held on longer, and let her let go first!" Elza retorted. "Sherry, are you all right?"

By now Sherry had stopped waving her arms and was looking at her fingers. "I think so," she said, then looked up at Elza. "I broke a nail, but that's all." Lacking a pair of fingernail clippers, Sherry stuck the affected finger in her mouth and began to chew on the broken nail.

"There – you see?" Linda declared. She began wiggling her arms and shoulders. "God, but my arms hurt."

"Do you mind taking the time to raise the bridge for me first before you do that?" Elza said.

Linda could have sworn that Elza was being sarcastic. She cursed under her breath, then bent over the handwheel and began to turn it. It proved surprisingly easy to do – especially after all she had just been through, Linda thought to herself. As she used both hands to spin the handwheel, the spinning bridge began to rise – slowly rotating counterclockwise as the handwheel turned. Within a few minutes Linda had the bridge all the way up to the platform where Elza was standing. Now that it was properly in place, the raised bridge connected it with the platform across the room where the doors to the Control Room were located – and Elza promptly ran across to the other side. She dashed over to the doors and tried them. They were locked. One Water Key later, and the doors were unlocked and open.

Elza came back to the edge of the platform. "Well, that's that," she said, a relieved look on her face. "I tell you what. Linda, go ahead and lower the bridge back down. Let's go ahead and let Sherry ride the bridge on up here, so you won't have to worry about keeping an eye on her anymore. After that, I'll let it back down for you from the Control Room."

"Oh, no you won't." Linda said. She deliberately backed away from the handwheel, planted her feet, balled her fists and stared straight up at Elza. "If you can work the bridge from the Control Room like you said you could, there's no reason that both of us can't ride it up when you do. We're going to stick to the original plan, Miss Walker. Sherry stays down here with me until you bring the bridge down for the both of us."

Elza stared down at Linda. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. As for Sherry, a look of fear had crossed her face. She backed away from Linda until she was standing at the far edge of the platform, and was casting furtive glances at the double doors that led to the passage back to the L-tunnel. Elza suspected what Sherry was thinking, and knew it would be dangerous – but if she could talk Linda down now, before she did anything else stupid ....

"All right," Elza said, throwing up her hands in a visible show of resignation. "Sherry can stay with you. Be that way, Linda. I'll be back shortly for both of you." With that Elza turned and went through the Control Room doors – pulling them shut behind her.

Linda stood braced on the platform below, both fists balled and planted on her hips, wearing a smug smile and a visible expression of triumph on her face. Finally! She had put one over on that pretentious little bitch! She suddenly spoke, and her voice was cold. "Sherry, stay away from that door. Don't forget that I'm bigger and faster, and you still have to open it to get through. There's nowhere else for you to go, and I'll catch you before you can make it through."

Sherry was now thoroughly scared. She looked at Linda with pleading eyes. "Why are you doing this, Miss Linda?" she asked. "Miss Elza only wants to help us."

"She only wants to help you, not me," Linda replied evenly. "She couldn't give a shit about me. Well, I'm going to make sure that she helps both of us – only she's going to do it my way for once, and not hers."

Elza was fuming as she walked onto the upper deck of the Sewers Control Room, but there was very little she could do about it. Linda had her over a barrel for the first time since she had joined up with them, and she knew it. Elza knew that the Umbrella woman didn't give a flip about little Sherry's safety. All she cared about was her own. Sherry was now in serious trouble, and only Elza could save her from it – and that meant doing exactly what Linda had told her to do. That she would do for Sherry's sake ... and she would deal with Linda later.

The place where she now stood amounted to a wide upper balcony overlooking a room that was about the same size and looked on general terms not all that different from the one she had just left. There was a little room to her left on the upper deck. That was the Control Room proper, but it was only a small part of what her map called the East Tank Room. Below and in front of the upper deck was a large collection tank, with four large output pipes feeding from overhead at each corner and an oversized mechanical apparatus of some kind rising out of the water at its center. The latter was probably the actual intake mechanism that was used to drain the tank whenever it was needed, Elza guessed. She could make out no details at the bottom of the tank, because it was almost completely full of mucky and scummy sewer water that hid from sight whatever secrets it held within its depths. To her right were both open-shelf and closed-door storage cabinets containing various tools and other assorted gear for the Sewers, a long sampling pole hanging from a hook on the side of one storage cabinet, and a large wheeled metal dolly into which were strapped one each of tall and narrow oxygen and acetylne tanks. The expected connecting hoses were there and an adjustable fitting for a torch were present on their end, too. On one of the open shelves of the very last storage cabinet were an assortment of different heads for the torch. At the far front edge of this end of the room, almost directly in front of the last storage cabinet (which was at right angles to it against the wall), was a opening in the ledge's safety rail. There were two pipe-like protrusions coming out of the floor of the ledge, and they curved a full half-circle around and disappeared downward. They could only be the topmost parts of a ladder leading to the bottom of the tank. All of this Elza took in at a glance. After that, she turned and walked into the booth-like little room on the balcony's left side that was the Sewers Control Room proper.

Inside the Control Room were control consoles, wall panels, and displays – not to mention the large window that ran parallel to the front edge of the high ledge and gave a nice view of the collection tank below. Immediately to her left just beyond the door was a large electrical cabinet, situated between the door wall and the first console. Its general shape and exterior attachments made Elza think of those old-fashioned, reel-to-reel computer systems she had seen in a lot of old movies. She guessed it probably held all of the wiring and network routing cables for the Control Room, as well as its various breakers and other power control gear. There were also three wheeled chairs in the room, obviously for the system operators, but all were empty and overturned. There was the occasional odd item here and there – an empty candy wrapper, a pen lying on a small notepad on which someone had written, Team dispatched to North Canal overflow, and so on. All of this demonstrated that there had been people in here fairly recently. There was no one now, though, and Elza guessed that the Control Room had probably been empty since the very first day of the Outbreak. She studied the wall and console panels, reading the labels on each knob and switch, and occasionally referencing them to the large lighted wall display that showed a general representation of this part of the Raccoon City Sewers. After a while, she nodded, and left the Control Room.

Elza walked back out to the Central Hub and looked down below at both Linda and Sherry. "I've found the bridge controls," she said. "Both of you need to get in the middle of it once it's down, and then call out when you do. Once I hear you call, then I'll raise the bridge." With that, Elza turned and headed back to the Control Room. She went to the appropriate panel on one of the control consoles and pressed a series of switches. Immediately she heard a motor start up, and then there was the sound of a constant electromechanical hum – as back in the Central Hub, the spinning bridge dropped slowly but surely and began to slowly spin clockwise on its hydraulically-driven central support pillar. It took just under half a minute, but at last there was a loud latching CLANK! as the bridge locked into place in the fully lowered position. It was now back where it had been when they had first encountered it, fitted neatly into the gap between the two lower platforms on the Central Hub. Elza watched on one of the monitors in the Control room as first Linda and then Sherry walked onto the bridge and positioned themselves in its center, with the little girl keeping as far away from Linda as she dared. Sherry apparently no longer trusted Linda any more than did Elza at any point since she had first rescued the woman. The only reason she was this close now was that she had a good reason to stay with her.

"We're ready," Linda called out.

Elza now pressed a different series of switches. The bridge spun and lifted, reversing its earlier action. It rose all the way up, spinning and then locked into position between the upper platforms of the Central Hub. Once that was done, Elza cut the power and got up. The electromechanical hum faded immediately, and the sound of the motor died – but Elza was already heading back to the Central Hub at a brisk trot.

Sherry was the first across the now-raised bridge. She practically ran to Elza and grasped her tightly, burying her head in Elza's side. "Oh, Miss Elza!" she half-cried, half-exclaimed.

"There, there," Elza said, putting a comforting hand on Sherry's shoulder. "You're up now. Nothing more to worry about."

Linda sauntered across the bridge. "It's amazing what you can get done when you're not trying to be bossy – isn't it, Miss Walker?" she said. She would have said more, but was cut off before she could even start. With amazing speed Elza had detached herself from Sherry and now had both of her hands on Linda's collar, holding both it and her up so that she was forced up on her toes.

"Listen, asshole," Elza growled, and the fire of her anger was clear in her eyes. "Don't ... ever ... pull ... a stunt ... like that ... again. Do you understand?"

Linda tried not to show any fear, but she didn't do a very good job of it. Her voice quavered in spite of herself as she spoke. "Like what?"

"Threatening Sherry," Elza said evenly. "Think and say whatever you want about me. Hell, treat me like the scum of the earth if you want – but don't ... threaten ... Sherry. She's only a child, and children can't defend themselves. Besides, only cowards hide behind children. Got it?" Elza's last words came out in a barely restrained hiss that threatened far more than what she actually said. She locked eyes with Linda, and the two stared at each other for what seemed like ages. Finally, Linda turned aside and nodded her head. Elza let her down, then made the motion of brushing off and smoothing the other woman's lapels – even though her Umbrella uniform jacket didn't have any. "There," Elza said, still with an edge in her voice even though its threat level had dropped appreciably. "I'm glad we've got that settled. Now let's all go to the Control Room and figure out what we've got to do to get out of here."

* * * * *

The three of them had been sitting quietly in the alcove of the storm drain when all three of their radios sounded with the call signal. "Kevin, this is Elza," sounded a distorted and tinny voice from somebody's uncovered speaker.

"Hey, I think it's workin' now!" John exclaimed as he quickly pulled his radio out of his back pocket. He put his big fingers on the volume knob and was instantly rewarded with a loud feedback squeal. Hastily he dialed it back down and looked helplessly at the others, who already had their radios out and ready.

"Not quite," Rita said, smiling sympathetically. "That was mine. Here John, you can share off of me again."

Kevin grinned at poor John, as the burly man sidled up beside Rita, then keyed his own mike. "Kevin here, Elza. What's up?"

"We're in the Control Room," Elza said, "and we've spent the last five minutes or so figuring out what we need to do to get out of here. We're about to start draining the North Canal. We're going to have to drain some of the treatment tanks as well, as they're all tied into the same system, so this is going to take a bit. Once we've got everything drained, though, the North Canal will be clear and we should be able to just walk on out."

"Sounds simple enough," Kevin observed. "I know I asked this before, but I'll ask again. Is there anything we can do on this end to help?"

"Not really ... but I don't see any problem now with your earlier idea to come back up the North Canal from your end and meet us halfway, once we get the draining process started. That is, if you still want to do that and you don't run into any trouble. It's an almost straight shot the whole way, with only a couple of half-turns, and there's nothing else that branches up or hooks in between the drain and the West Tank."

"What about vents, side tunnels, and such, Elza? Any chance we might have to deal with more spiders, or God forbid more alligators?"

"Well ... both the system map and the control board map up here don't show any, but they may be too small or unimportant for them to have wanted to put on them. Can't say. It's up to you, of course, and how soon you want to get everybody back together again as one group."

Kevin chuckled. "Safety in numbers – is that what you're saying, Elza?"

"That, plus the fact we have the extra spare ammo you guys need so badly. The sooner you get to us and get it, the better off you'll be."

Kevin thought for a moment, then spoke again. "Any idea on how long it's going to take for the system to drain?"

"Well, I'm setting it for a normal drain, so it'll probably take anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes. There's a faster emergency drain that will only take ten minutes or so, but I want to stay away from that. I'm unclear as to what will happen if I do that – the procedure up here says something about 'all available tanks employed in the flushing process,' so I'd rather err on the side of caution, if you know what I mean. I don't want to wind up flooding the storm drain you guys are in, if that's one of the the things the emergency dump does."

"I understand," Kevin said. "Nothing wrong with playing it safe. in that case, I'll be conservative, too, and say thirty minutes based on your max estimate. In a half-hour, unless something happens, we'll leave from where we are and start down the North Canal from our end. We're looking forward to seeing you guys again."

"You take care," Rita interjected quickly, before Kevin could end the transmission. "Don't you guys get lost on us on the way, okay?"

They heard Elza laugh over the crackle of static. "Don't worry, Rita," she finally said. "We're just as keen on getting out of here as you are. We'll be careful. Elza, out."

Kevin and Rita put away their radios. John looked thoughtful, and began to scratch the back of his neck. "Thirteh minitz, eh? Gotta drain both da canal an' da tanks? Dat's a lot o' watah."

"That's why we're not going into the North Canal right now," Kevin said. "We're going to give her all the leeway she needs."

"Still," John said, as he continued to scratch his neck, "I wouldn't wan' ta get kot in all dat if sumfun went wrong. I mean, kin ya imagine getting chased by a wall of watah down dese tunnels?"

"Don't put that thought in my head, John," Rita said. "We got enough to worry about already without you adding to our troubles."

"Besides," Kevin said, "Elza says they've got it all under control up there."

"Yeah," John said. He still looked uncomfortable. He lowered his hand, and scuff-kicked one of his feet on the floor. "I kinda wished now I'd learned how ta be a board op, so I'd know how da Sewers drain. I wuddn't smart enough fer dat. If I had, mebbe I'd feel better."

"Well," Rita said quietly, "there's not a whole lot we can do except trust them, is there?"

"No," Kevin added.

With that, the three settled back down and resumed waiting again.

* * * * *

As soon as she had the various control boards and panels set, Elza reached up to the side of the metal cabinet near the front of the Control Room. A series of hooks had been attached there, and from each hung a tagged key. Elza removed and pocketed the one on the hook that was marked "Main Pump Room."

"What's that for?" Sherry asked.

"Well, according to the control board, the power to the Main Pump is down," Elza said. "There's not enough power down here to get it going, and the main feed from the city grid doesn't work, either. Main power's been out in the city for a while, so that's understandable. What that means, Sherry, is I've got to go down to the Main Pump Room and turn on the emergency generator down there. Once I do, the Main Pump will start up and automatically start the draining process. I can't start it from up here because the generator has to be started manually; otherwise I'd do that." She thought for a moment, then looked down at the little girl. "Sherry, I need to ask you a favor."

"What is it?"

Elza took a breath, glanced over at Linda, then looked back at Sherry. "I want you to stay up here in the Control Room with Miss Linda until I get back."

"But—" Sherry began.

"It's safer," Elza said, cutting her off. She now looked up at Linda. "I'll need you to lower the bridge from here so I can get to the Main Pump Room."

Linda nodded. "I can do that."

"But I want to go with you, Miss Elza!" Sherry protested.

"No, Sherry," Elza said. She kept talking even as she left the Control Room and headed for the door. "You'll be safer up here, just in case something goes wrong, understand?"

"But Miss Elza!" Sherry said, running after her, even as Elza stepped through the East Tank Room door and closed it behind her. Seconds later Sherry too had opened and passed through, pulling it so hard behind her as she ran after Elza that it slammed shut.

As soon as she was alone in the Control Room, Linda moved over to the control consoles where Elza had been working only a minute or so before. She studied the various knobs, dials, switches, indicator lights, and control displays for a few moments. After that, she reached down and very deliberately put one hand on one knob in particular and moved it one setting upward. She then stood back, smiling. "That ought to make things interesting for that little bitch," she said aloud – a smug smile of self-satisfaction dancing across her face.

Seconds later, Sherry came back through the East Tank Room door. She looked up at Linda, with both resignation and a hint of fear on her face. "Miss Elza says you can lower the bridge now," she said softly.

Linda nodded, then reached for and flipped a switch. A motor started up somewhere, the electromechanical hum filled the air once again – and outside, in the Central Hub, the spinning bridge with Elza in its center began to rotate clockwise and move back down at the same time.

Once again, Elza found herself in the Main Pump Room. There weren't any enemies or monsters to fight this time, and she didn't waste any time exploring. Instead, she went straight to the main control panel for the Main Pump. She inserted the Main Pump Key and turned it. Its control board lights came on all at once, and they quickly shifted from red through amber to green as the control computer went through and completed its system checks. As soon as the last light turned green, a prerecorded voice sounded over the loudspeaker in one of the room's upper corners.

Emergency generator now online. System ready.

Elza now flipped up a squared clear plastic cover from over a red switch and pressed it. There was a cranking sound, and then the sound of a large diesel motor started up from somewhere nearby, muffled by the thick concrete walls. The prerecorded voice sounded again.

Emergency generator active. Power restored. System drain will begin in ten seconds.

With that, the prerecorded voice switched into a countdown. The sound of the generator went from a low idle to a deep throated rumble. A three-light panel overhead resembling a stoplight mounted sideways flashed from red to green as the prerecorded voice went through the complete ten-second countdown from ten to zero. As it spoke the final number, Elza heard the rumble and grind of pump machinery in motion directly in front of her and beneath the thick metal casing of the Main Pump. She smiled – and then, without warning, a two-tone alarm began to sound. A flashing red light began to spin from somewhere nearby, and several indicators on the control panel flashed from green back to amber – and then back into the red. Above her head, the sidewise stoplight went from amber to red and began to flash repeatedly. The prerecorded voice began to speak again over the room's loudspeaker.

Warning! Emergency drain in process. All personnel are advised to seek the upper levels immediately. All watertight doors will be electronically locked and closed in ten seconds. Those within watertight compartments must stay there until the draining process is complete. Warning! Emergency drain in process ...

"What?!" Elza said. She was incredulous. She had not set the system for an emergency drain – only a standard drain. That meant – oh, NO!!!

Elza ran for the Main Pump Room door. She yanked it open and dashed through. Beside her, the water in the Central Hub's lower tank was bubbling and churning from two openings equally spaced well below the lower catwalk level, along the wall that it shared with the East Tank Room. The water level was already almost to the lower catwalk itself and rising fast. She ran to the end of the platform, across the spinning bridge to the double doors at the end of the other platform, and grabbed the door handle – just in time to hear the electronically driven locking bolts latch into place. The water had now risen above the catwalk and was lapping over the toes of her boots. Furiously she dug in her pockets for the Water Key, found it, and stuck it in the lock. It turned, but the door still would not open. Most likely it was now secured by an alternate locking system, with bolts coming in from the hinge sides as well as the top and bottom jambs. Now it would take either a high-speed ram or a bomb to get that door open – and she had neither.

Elza cursed and turned around. The water had now risen above her ankles and was climbing to her shins. She looked at the handwheel for the spinning bridge, and cursed again. She could not both work the handwheel and be on the bridge at the same time. The water had now passed her shins and was almost to her knees. She looked back at the locked double doors, then at the handwheel, then at the bridge, and then finally at the high platform for the Control Room door. The water had now risen past her knees and was climbing up her thighs. She was now truly trapped ... and somewhere up above her, Elza ruefully mused, Linda Merton must be laughing her goddamn head off.

* * * * *

Up in the East Tank Room, Linda stood on the small platform overlooking the East Tank proper, watching it rapidly drain and quietly laughing. "I hope Jungle Jana knows how to swim," she said, and then giggled.

Behind her and off to one side in the Control Room, Sherry watched the tank drain rapidly as the emergency alarms sounded and the warning sirens flashed. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open. Miss Linda was trying to kill Miss Elza! She was sure of it. She whirled around and ran to the control consoles, frantically studying the switches. It all looked so confusing, so jumbled – but she had to do something! Miss Elza's life depended on it. She kept looking, knowing that all the time she was taking gave Miss Elza one minute less to live. She examined every control console, wall panel, indicator board, and even the big metal cabinet by the door – and then finally found for what she was looking. It was a raised red rocker switch inside the big cabinet, along with all of the other power switches, that was marked EMG GEN CUTOFF. Praying that it did what she thought it did, she hit the switch. Immediately the alarms went off and the lights stopped flashing. The sound of the pump machinery died instantly, and the prerecorded voice that had previously announced the emergency drain came again over the loudspeakers.

Emergency shutdown. Generator failure. Maintenance assistance required.

Linda whirled around even as Sherry came out of the Control Room. "What did you just do?" she half-snarled.

"I shut the system down," Sherry said, looking straight at her. "You were trying to kill Miss Elza!"

"I was NOT!" Linda squalled – and then immediately calmed back down. She took a couple of steps, and that brought her out of the railed sampling platform and back onto the high ledge proper. Sherry promptly began edging toward the East Tank Room door. "I was ... just trying to get the system drained as fast as I could, so we could all get— Sherry! Get back here!!"

Without warning, Sherry had darted the rest of the way towards the East Tank Room door. Linda tried to grab her, but the little girl used her head start to good advantage. She already had the door open and was through it by the time Linda got there. Linda cursed, then closed the door and walked back to the sampling platform. She sighed, and then looked down.

The massive East Tank had drained almost completely, with only a foot or two or so of sewer water still left in it. It wasn't enough to hide the bottom of the tank anymore, and Linda could now clearly see it no matter where she looked. She saw that the pump machinery that had appeared to be sticking up out of the water when the tank was full was in fact sitting on a raised platform, and it also extended to an alcove almost dead center at the back of the tank at its bottom. The alcove was as tall and wide as one of the regular Sewer corridors or tunnels, but was only a few feet deep. The back of the alcove was no back, but a large barred metal gate covering an access tunnel of some kind. The gate itself was liberally coated with rust, slime, and who knew what other kind of scum. Linda guessed that the gate was there to keep anything out that wasn't wanted, but she also deduced that it could and had been opened in the past – judging from the larger pieces of flotsam lying in the bottom of the tank.

Suddenly one of the larger piles of crud on the raised platform near the gate caught her eye, and she looked again. Lying at the base of the barred gate was the half-desiccated partial remains of a human being – or, to be more specific, its skull, part of one shoulder, and the complete right arm. To be more accurate only the bones and what was left of the partially rotted muscle and flesh of the right arm remained. Had she been thinking about it at the time, Linda might have noticed that the fact that the rest of the body was missing, coupled with the state of the remaining parts and the way they were stretched out, seemed to indicate that the victim had been bitten in two. Nevertheless, as Linda's eye followed the length of the dead person's arm, her attention was drawn to an object that lay about a foot away from the outstretched hand of the arm near the southern edge of the platform, just outside of the alcove. It appeared to be a very large handgun, and occasional breaks in the sewer scum that covered most of it shone of plated gunmetal.

"The Magnum!" Linda said, sucking in her breath. She knew what she was going to do even before she did it. No matter that she still had Elza's SiG Sauer P228 tucked away in one of her jacket pockets. She had to get the Magnum before Little Miss Prissy did. Once she did, and once she loaded up on all the Magnum ammo down in the Main Pump Room, then Queen Bitch Elza would never be able to boss her around again. Without even giving the matter a second thought, Linda headed for the ladder at the end of the East Tank's upper ledge, and climbed down into the tank.

* * * * *

As the water continued to climb all around her, Elza mulled over her options – and those were very few indeed. Even if she had managed to reach the double doors in time and escape the Central Hub, there was no guarantee that she would have been able to open the doors at the other end of the corridor. And if the rising water and increasing water pressure on the double doors on this end somehow managed to burst them open, a fast-moving wall of water would have cascaded down the connecting corridor with the L-tunnel in a matter of seconds. Even if by some miracle both sets of doors could be opened, and she managed to escape the wall of water that would have chased her down that corridor, the L-tunnel beyond would have promptly flooded – just as the Central Hub was doing even now. Elza seriously doubted that in all of that frenzied commotion she could have safely made it to and up the ladder shaft to the West Tank Room before she ran out of air and drowned, or was bashed into unconsciousness and drowned by the wall of water slamming her against the farther set of double doors, or by being propelled into the wall next to the Break Room when the double doors in the L-tunnel burst open from the increasing water pressure ... or anything else along those lines. Her hope of escape down that way had been slim to begin with, but now she couldn't even try it. Not being able to work the spinning bridge by herself denied her the only other hope of escaping the rising water as well. Unless ... unless ....

An idea began to form in Elza's mind. It was insane. It was hopeless. It didn't give her any better chance of getting out of her predicament than anything else of which she could think. Right now, though, given her current situation and the waist-high water still rising around her, it seemed the only practical solution. With that, Elza took a deep breath ... and then stood there as the water continued to rise. It rose past her breasts ... her armpits ... her shoulders. When it reached her neck, she moved her arms around – and then she kicked off from the platform and began to swim slowly towards the underside of the Control Room entrance platform.

It took almost all of her strength just to swim. The weight of her fully laden armor vest, coupled with all of the weapons she still had on her person, made even treading water an exhausting chore. Still, by the time she managed to position herself under the edge of the platform where the Control Room door was located, she had risen with the water halfway up the height of the Central Hub. The water that might have killed her seconds before was going to be her salvation. It was carrying her up with it as it continued to rise, bringing her ever closer to the far platform. She saw several braces and support rods that might make for good handholds, making mental notes on how best to work her way over to the edge of the platform and swing herself up and onto it. She continued to rise with the water, and the platform's edge continued to get closer ... and closer ... and closer ....

Suddenly the alarm klaxon cut off. The water stopped rising. Elza cursed even as the prerecorded voice came over the room loudspeaker.

Emergency shutdown. Generator failure. Maintenance assistance required.

The voice repeated over and over again, like some insane maniac yammering in a unwelcome nightmare. Elza kicked with her aching legs below water and strained, reaching up as high as she could. She didn't even come close to grabbing the nearest platform support, and she splashed back down into the water, the weight of her gear pulling her down below the surface. She fought her way back up, tried again, and again, and again. No good! It was still out of reach. The lowest support brace on the platform underside nearest to her was a good six inches or so below the highest point she could reach, bobbing unsupported in the tank water as she was and having to bear the weight of all of her gear. She swam over to the wall and tried to kick off of it to reach higher, but it was no good either. She simply couldn't get enough purchase on the now-slippery surface to cross the distance. She next swam over to where the ladder used to be, hoping for an old bolt, a hole in the masonry, anything to give her the leverage she needed to cross that one little gap. Nothing.

Elza now swam towards where she knew the lower platform for the double doors should be. She took a deep breath, and then let herself sink into the water. She kept her eyes closed since this was sewer water, as she didn't want to take any more chances than necessary. More by touch than anything else she found the handrail for the lower platform, and Elza followed it until she found the handwheel. Locking her legs into the handrail, she tried to turn the handwheel. It wouldn't budge. She tried again, straining as hard as she could. Whether it was from the fact that it was now underwater, or had something to do with the automatic cutoffs and locking procedures of the emergency system drain, the handwheel refused to turn. She felt herself running out of air, so she kicked off of the handrail as hard as she could and shot back to the surface.

Elza broke the surface of the water and drew in a deep breath. She bobbed up, then promptly went back down again. The weight of her gear and laden armor vest continued its inexorable pull downward on her, and she knew she would have to shed the lot soon if she were going to remain afloat. Still, if she just cut it all loose, she'd probably never be able to recover it, and then .... Instead, Elza literally fought her way back to the surface. Treading water fiercely in order to remain afloat, she shook the water from her face and opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Sherry standing at the edge of the platform to the Control Room, leaning on the safety rail, and looking at her with anxious eyes.

"Miss Elza!" Sherry cried. "Are you all right?"

"Uh-huh!" Elza gasped, fighting just to stay afloat. "What happened?"

"It's Miss Linda!" Sherry said. "She switched the settings on the panel! I think she's trying to kill you!"

"Oh, teriffic!" Elza said. With an effort, she now began to slowly swim towards the platform where Sherry was standing, talking in between strokes as she went. "Sherry, listen to me. I need your help ... but you've got to do ... exactly what I tell you. I can't get out ... without your help. Can you help me?"

Sherry nodded. "I'll do what I can, Miss Elza."

Elza was now within a couple of feet of the platform edge where Sherry was standing. She was now treading water again, and kept talking as she looked up at Sherry. "I want you to sit down on the edge of the platform right in front of one of those poles that's holding up the rails. No, not that one – the one next to it, where it's got the rails on both sides of the pole. Yes ... that's good. Scoot all the way up, so you're right against the pole. Now, I want you to loop your arms around the lower rail and stick your legs over the side. I'm going to have to grab one of your feet and pull on it in order to get up."

Sherry's eyes opened wide. "But you'll pull me in too, Miss Elza!"

"Not if you sit behind that pole and wind your arms around those safety rails exactly like I told you," Elza said calmly. "And I'm not going to use you to climb back up. I'd probably pull your feet out of socket if I tried, you being as little as you are and me with all my stuff. What I'm going to do instead is grab one of your feet, and then use you to lever myself up high enough so I can grab one of the braces under the platform. I'll be in the water most of the time, so I won't weigh as much as I would if I tried to climb up and over you." She tried to smile. "This is probably going to hurt, Sherry – but you're my only chance. Will you do it?"

"Yes," Sherry said without hesitation. She promptly sat down just as Elza had told her to do behind both the railing and one of its support poles, with her arms and legs to either side of the pole. She stuck both of her legs over the side of the platform, then wound her arms around the lower safety rail and gripped it as tight as she could. She was trembling, but she tried to look brave. "I'm ready, Miss Elza."

Elza changed position in the water so that she was now directly below Sherry. She reached up, kicking hard as she did so and easily gripped one of Sherry's feet with one hand. Sherry winced as Elza's grip tightened and she began to feel the weight of the laden woman, but she did not make a sound. "Gotcha," Elza said. "Get ready." She suddenly pulled down and reached up with her other arm as high as she could, kicking both of her legs hard at the same time for maximum effect. Almost! She felt her fingertips brush the bottom of the nearest support before she splashed back down into the water. Sherry cried aloud even as Elza let go.

"Sorry, Sherry," Elza said, resetting herself. "One more time. Let me get your other foot this time."

Elza tread more water for a few seconds, then reached up and managed to grab Sherry's other foot. She felt the little girl stiffen even as she tightened her grip, but she did not cry out. "Good girl," Elza said. "Here we go. One ... two .... THREE!" With that, Elza kicked hard, yanked down hard on the arm that held Sherry's foot, and reached as high as she could with the other. This time, her fingers locked solidly around the low-hanging support rod that was directly above her. She grabbed and gripped and did not let go. Sherry cried aloud again at the pain shooting through her leg. "It's all right, baby," Elza said, as she let go of Sherry and reached up to grab the rod with both hands. "You can get up now. You did it."

Elza now hung below the platform's edge from the support rod she had successfully snagged. She had a firm grip and did not let go. Looking through the metal grating that served as the platform's floor, she saw Sherry move away from the pole at the edge of the platform, and crawl around on her knees until she could see Elza below. "I did good?" she asked.

"You did very good," Elza said, beaming at her. "Give me a minute, and I'll be up there with you."

Hand over hand, grabbing various supports in succession, Elza managed to work her way to the opening in the platform railing where the spinning bridge would normally slide into position. With a bit of an effort she managed to reach up and grab the safety rail support pole on one end with one of her hands. Another effort shortly thereafter and she had both hands on the pole. The next time, she kicked in the water and swung one of her legs up and onto the edge of the platform. Seconds later, she was on the platform itself, half-sitting and half-lying beside Sherry and breathing heavily. She had made it, and she had not been forced to shed one bit of her now-waterlogged gear and weapons – thanks to little Sherry Birkin.

"Miss Elza," Sherry said, smiling at Elza. Her happiness at seeing the young woman safe again was all over her face.

Elza nodded and took a deep breath. It was about all she could do, for her efforts to keep herself afloat and then to get out of the tank had almost exhausted her. Finally, she found the strength to smile – but at that moment a muffled but quite loud animal roar came from behind the Control Room door, accented by a woman's frightened scream. Elza immediately stumbled to her feet, Sherry hot on her heels, as she half-staggered and half-ran to the Control Room door.

"What was that?" Sherry said in alarm, as she ran close behind her.

"'Gator," Elza said. "Damn big one too, sounds like. C'mon!"

* * * * *

LInda grimaced as she finished coming down the last few rungs of the ladder and stepped off into shin-high sewer water. She was now at the bottom southwest corner of the East Tank, and the ledge where the Control Room was located and from where she had descended was now high above her. She hated the sensation of the water around her legs and in her shoes - and it was that nasty scummy sewer water to boot, but consoled herself with the thought of the prize that was at the other end of the tank. So, with her jaw set and a determined look on her face, Linda noisily splashed towards the tunnel gate on the platform at the bottom back of the East Tank. It was slow going due to the water, and aggravated by the fact that the bottom of the tank was both covered in a brownish-green slick scum and was spotted here and there with small piles and patches of ... well, she didn't even want to think of what it was or might have been. She pointedly avoided them, and tried not to look down as she planted one foot carefully in front of the other, always splashing forward, and with her eyes firmly fixed on the near edge of the platform – the one closest to the body at the bottom of the barred gate.

Occasionally, when she was in the right spot and the lighting from high overhead was just right, she could see a metallic flash from the still-clean parts of the Magnum lying there. That guy, or what was left of him, must have been that supervisor fellow both Elza and that cop on the radio were talking about. It looked to her like whatever he had gone after had gotten him instead, and his remains had probably been flushed into the tank not long ago. That's how they had ended up where they were – she was sure of it. She began to wonder about the shape and size of the monster that could have torn an armed man apart like that, and then just as quickly put the thought out of her mind. Whatever it was, it was out there somewhere else in the Sewers, where it couldn't bother her. It was there, and she was here. All she had to do was to get that Magnum, then get back out the same way she came. It was so easy it was ridiculous.

She was almost to the platform now. She could clearly make out the shape of the Magnum, even though it was still partially covered in sewage and other muck. She could also see what was left of the body, too, and she couldn't help but look at it. It was gruesome, given both its state and the water-based decomposition that had taken place. The head was turned to one side so that it lay with its face - or what was left of it - towards the big induction assembly in the center of the room. Despite its obvious ruin, it still bore traces of a look of absolute horror – and the fact that most of the teeth and jawbone were now exposed helped to emphasize this. It had the look of a Halloween ghoul that itself had been frightened out of its wits. Linda had been forced to deal with stern stuff in Umbrella's labs, and even sterner stuff since the Outbreak began and her subsequent encounters with Elza and Sherry. Still, the sight made her stomach turn. She changed her gaze, trying to keep her eyes focused on the Magnum and not at the horror that lay within a yard of it, but it was difficult. Her mind began to imagine that half-head, half-skull laughing at her. "Oh, you silly fool," it chattered in her vision. "You want to end up like me? Then keep on coming." With a start Linda shook her head, and the vision vanished.

Linda was at the back edge of the platform now, right by the alcove. All she had to do was bend down and reach out, and the Magnum was hers. "It was worth it," she thought to herself with a smile. "The water, the muck, and Mister Gruesome here. Yes, it was worth it." And with that, she bent down and reached for the gun.

It was the sudden churning of the water on the other side of the platform that warned her – and just in the nick of time, too. Linda barely had a moment to register a very big dark shadow lunging up and forward out of the tank from the other side of the platform before she too was moving. She dived down and to her left, away from the Magnum and straight into the water near the pump. Inches above her still-moving head, there was the crash! and snap! of massive jaws closing on thin air. Linda, now lying prone and half-submerged beside the pump, scrambled up to her hands and knees, then she was up on her feet and she swung around. What she saw next gave her the worst fright of her life – even more than the attack of the infected dogs in the RPD Parking Garage. She was so terrified in that instant that she stood stock still, the shock of that horror completely engulfing her, and she found that she could do nothing else but scream.

The alligator was massive. It had to be at least three times the size of the body of the one Elza had killed earlier up in the West Tank. It had apparently lunged at her in typical alligator attack mode even as she had reached for the Magnum on the platform. Had she not dived away when she did then her headless body (and probably armless and chestless, too) would have joined Gruesome and his gun on the platform. Right now it was that very platform that was the only thing keeping the beast from coming after her. It was so massive and it had lunged so far and so fast after her that it had become stuck, with half of its body hanging off one side and half on the other. Desperately its four stumpy legs flailed the air seeking purchase, its oversize tail lashed back and forth, smacking and churning up the water on the far side of the tank or slapping hard into the tank back wall. Its massive head twisted and craned in all directions, its tooth-filled oversized jaws opened and closed, and every time they did it let out a massive roar that shook the East Tank Room. Any second now, the thing was going to wriggle its way out of its current predicament, and then it would be after her to finish what it had started. Linda wanted to run, knew she HAD to get to that ladder if she stood even the slightest chance for survival, but she just couldn't. The terror of the thing had her completely in its grip, and she could still do nothing but scream.

Suddenly there was the burst of automatic weapons fire high above, but it abruptly stopped. There was the sound of a woman cursing loudly and profanely from the same direction. "Goddamn it, it's jammed!" she heard the woman cry out. "All that water! Linda!!! Haul ass or shoot, woman!! NOW!!!"

Linda knew who it was without even looking. Elza was back. Little Miss Amazon had survived her swim. She might have saved her – but her autopistol had just jammed. She risked a look up. Elza was standing on the sampling platform, wrestling with her weapon, still trying and failing to get it to work. She looked down at Linda, and her face was that of a hellhound. "LINDA!!!" she yelled. "NOW!!!!!"

Now she heard the sound of claws on stone and metal. The giant alligator scrambled up and over the platform and onto the bottom of the other side of the tank. It turned in her direction, and Linda half-fancied that it was grinning at her ... a evil grin of certain death, of a executioner about to deliver swift and certain sentence on its helpless victim. She saw herself, as if from a distance, raise the Magnum that she had somehow snatched up without realizing it and point it at the thing. It was absolutely hopeless, and she knew it. The thing had been underwater for even longer than Elza's own gun. There was no way it would work. It was her choice, though. Either she would certainly die trying to put up a fight, or she would certainly die as she attempted to flee to the ladder. The big brute was going to get her either way. It had both the speed and the strength to do it, and there was no other way out of the tank.

The alligator lunged ... and Linda fired.

The recoil from the Magnum threw Linda back. She lost her footing and fell back into the shallow water. As she fell, her head was thrown back, and she could see Elza above her on the platform, still trying to clear her jammed gun. She was looking beyond Linda in the direction of the giant alligator. Linda could hear the massive beast thrashing about in the water, and knew it would be on her in an instant. Her death was certain, and she knew it. She couldn't have hit the thing, because the recoil from firing the Magnum had jerked her arms up and back. Besides, she was no good with guns and she knew it. Elza was the real expert when it came to weapons – or anything else for that matter. She was so much better than Linda—

The upper part of Linda's body splashed into and under the water. Her head hit hard on the solid stone bottom of the tank. She heard and felt the smack! even though it was underwater. After that, things became a blur. She knew she must have struggled back up, because she was breathing fresh air and spitting sewer water out of her mouth. She could hear the alligator thrashing, hearing its gurgling moan, and now she also heard gunfire. Gunfire? That meant Elza must have unjammed her gun. It couldn't be herself. She had dropped the Magnum when she had fallen into the water and hit her head. Her head ... it hurt ... it hurt so much ... Somehow, she found herself pressing into the back wall of the tank. She slowly staggered around and plopped down into the water in a sitting position, her back to the tank wall. It was undignified and it was wet, but it felt so good to get off of her feet. She lifted a hand to her head ... her aching head ... it hurt so much.

And with that, Linda passed out.

* * * * *

"Hey, guys – I think she's comin' around! Miss Merton?"

Linda's eyes fluttered open. Somewhere inside her head, a little man was running around with a very big hammer pounding every exposed nerve ending he could find and then screaming at the top of his lungs, "DOES THIS HURT?!?!?!" Her rump was rather sore, too, and her entire body ached. All of that got shunted aside for a few seconds, however, due to the sight that greeted her now-opened eyes.

She was lying on her back in what appeared to be a fair-sized alcove lined by formed concrete walls, with the occasional pipe or electrical conduit breaking up the otherwise uniform regularity. To her left, the alcove opened out into a very wide concrete-lined tunnel that seemed to run on forever in both directions. Someone had removed her Umbrella jacket and had bundled it under her head to form a crude pillow. That someone was probably a member of the group of five humans who either sat or stood nearby. All of them looked like they had just walked in from a hurricane, so soiled and damp were their clothes and hair, and all of them were looking at her. Linda glanced down, and saw right away that her own clothes and person were in no better shape than theirs.

"Miss Merton?" spoke the nearest – a short and not altogether unattractive woman with close-cropped blond hair who was wearing a rather scruffy looking police uniform, with dark blue pants and sturdy black service shoes instead of the skirt and heels Linda would have expected. "My name's Rita Burnside. I've been taking care of you while you were out. How do you feel?"

Linda tried to get up on her elbows, but suddenly the pain in her head came back full force, and she sank back down. "I've got one hell of a headache," she said, "and my ass hurts."

The big man behind the two police officers snickered. The tall man in the RPD SWAT fatigues cut him a sharp glance and spoke. "John ..." he warned.

"Oh, sorry," the big man said, and tried very hard - and almost succeeded - at concealing his grin.

Rita - the policewoman with the short blonde hair - reached into a black backpack sitting beside her and rummaged around a bit, then pulled out a clear capped vial containing a rather familiar looking green powder. "I take it you know what these are."

Linda nodded. "Yes," she said.

Rita handed it to her. "It's good for everything else," she said, "so why not a headache? Let me warn you, though. We don't have any water to wash it down, and it's like trying to swallow raw flour."

"I'll keep that in mind," Linda said, taking the vial. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

With Rita's help, Linda managed to sit up. She then quaffed the entire contents of the vial in a single swallow, trying not to let its bitter taste get to her as it went down. Rita gave her a look of admiration. "You downed that like a pro," she said.

Linda smiled faintly. "It's not the first time I've used the green herb powders, you know."

"Exactly." The voice was all too familiar, and Linda looked past the two police officers and the big man to its speaker. Elza Walker stood there, arms folded and leaning against the edge of the concrete wall that framed the alcove. She did not look happy, and that was putting it mildly. Sherry stood beside Elza, and was watching Linda with the look of a startled rabbit that hadn't yet decided which way to jump. "Now that we're all one big happy family again," Elza said, "maybe it's time you tell more of what you know."

Linda shot her an even stare. She deliberately paused for a moment before speaking. "I get the feeling you've been doing all sorts of talking while I've been out – so what's the point? You've already poisoned the air in your favor, Miss Walker. Will anything I say make a difference?"

"Now wait just a minute—" Elza angrily began, standing up and stalking towards Linda with clenched fists. She stopped as the man in the RPD SWAT fatigues put up a hand towards her and gave her a stern look.

"That's enough, Elza," the officer said, in a tone that hinted of command.

The two of them stared at each other for several moments. Linda was honestly surprised when she saw Elza back down. She had never seen Elza do that before, and didn't believe she had been capable of it, until now. "Okay," Elza said stepping back and resuming her crossed-arm lean on the way, "but I'm not going to hold back if she starts lying like a sunuvabitch."

"Just let me handle this, okay?" the officer said calmly, then turned back towards the alcove.

Linda guessed that he must be Kevin Ryman, the leader of the group of survivors with whom Elza had been talking on the radio. He didn't strike her as the leadership type, based on his looks and the way he carried himself. Yet he had that look in his eyes and that tone in his voice that unmistakably gave the impression of command. She knew that impression well. Rodriguez and HUNK both had it. Her boss Linda Baldwin downtown had it. Annette had it – far more than her husband William. And others, too, whom she had met and known over the years. No doubt about it – Mr. Ryman was definitely the leader of this little group. He would bear watching.

Kevin spoke. "Miss Merton, my name is Kevin Ryman. I'm with the RPD Special Police Force. You've met Rita, that big man is John Kendo, and you're already acquainted with Elza and Sherry, it seems." He paused, judging Linda's reaction to his introductions – she had none – and then spoke again. "Miss Merton, I'm going to cut straight to the chase. We found you unconscious in the East Tank under ... well ... rather incredible circumstances. Both Elza and Sherry here have given their own version of what happened in there. I'd like to hear yours – and I promise no interference from the others. You just tell it the way you saw it happen, in your own words."

"Before I do that," Linda said, "may I ask a question or two myself?"

"Certainly," Kevin replied.

"How did I get here?" Linda asked, "and where am I?"

"You're in one of the city's main storm drains," Kevin answered, "and we think we're less than a mile from its main exit. You got here because I carried you here from the East Tank all the way up the North Canal."

"But how did you get in there, with the bridge being underwater and all?" Linda asked.

"None of your business," Elza snapped. "They did it the hard way."

"Elza ..." Kevin warned.

Elza backed down again. "All right, all right," she muttered.

"Anyway, we came after you guys when you didn't respond to our radio calls," Rita broke in. "We were worried something had happened to you – which it had, it seems."

"And thanks to Miss Merton here, there was no way you could ever reach us," Elza snapped. Kevin gave her a glare as she walked up and held up her radio in front of Linda's face. There was water on its surface, and a single drop formed and fell from its case. She continued to hold it up while she spoke. "My radio's ruined, Linda – no thanks to you!" She shoved it farther into the woman's face. 'Here!" she snapped! "Take it! It's no good to me anymore!"

Linda took the radio even as Kevin stepped towards Elza. "Elza!" Kevin snapped. "I said I'd handle this."

Again there was the exchange of intense stares between Kevin and Elza, and again it was Elza who backed down. "I think I need to go for a walk," she muttered, as she returned to her spot by the alcove.

"That's a good idea," Rita said, trying to sound cheerful. "Why don't you take Sherry with you, too?"

"Kin I cum?" John asked. "I'd kinda like-ta stretch mah legs, too."

Elza looked at him, then down at Sherry, then back at Kevin and Rita. She made a point of not even looking at Linda. "Okay, it's a threesome. We'll call it a test run for my new partner – and I'm going to insist on that - when next we head out. C'mon, guys."

Elza turned and headed down one end of the long storm drain, unholstering her autopistol as she walked. The weapon had been thoroughly cleaned since her encounter with the alligator, and was now fully functional again. Sherry quickly trotted up to one side, and John lumbered up on the other. Linda noted that the pistol-grip shotgun John was holding had an improvised sling made from a piece of electrical cord, secured on both ends of his weapon with duct tape. She laughed faintly. "No rifle slings at the gun shop for John, eh?"

"Huh?" Rita said, then saw where Linda was looking. "Oh, that." She gave the woman a wry smile. "You know, when we arrived in the East Tank Room, Elza had your hands tied up with that electrical cord. She said she was about to try to haul you up that ladder around her neck all by herself, and with all her gear, too – that is, until we showed up."

"What?" Linda said in surprise. She immediately examined her wrists. Sure enough, there were red marks around them, as if they been bound fairly recently. She snorted. "Figures. She once threatened to tie me up and throw me to the zombies if I ever fell short of her expectations again. I guess she was as good as her word." She now looked up again at the two police officers. "I don't know what kind of bull Miss Walker's been feeding you while I was out, and frankly I don't care. I know the truth of what happened down there, and I'll always know it no matter what. And if little Miss Birkin said I was trying to kill Miss Walker, she's dead wrong. I wasn't trying to do anything of the sort. I only wanted for once for her to have things as hard as she was putting me through, what with all of her orders and prissiness and bossing me around, and expecting me to hump her load while she's off running around fighting monsters and zombies and almost getting herself killed. Why, if it wasn't for me she'd be dead right now, and that's a fact – the little ingrate."

"Whoa, slow down," Kevin said, holding up a hand. "Tell you what. Why don't you start at the beginning, and tell us all about it. Furthermore," and with this he gave Linda an even look, "I want to know what you and that van were doing in the Parking Garage in the first place. I think I know, but I'd like you to tell me for sure one way or the another."

"Oh, that was just the other bad-ass woman in my recent life trying to have me put out of the way for good," Linda said. Her anger and frustration was evident in both her look and face. "If I could have dealt with her in anything close to the way I tried to deal with Elza, I would have solved most of my problems long ago." She suddenly stopped, looking down at the damp radio she still held in her hands. "I didn't stop to think about what else might happen because of what I was doing. Honest."

"You mean, like finding a really good handgun but leaving us with a situation where almost all of the ammo for it is stuck in a room that's now underwater, with no way for us to pump the water back out to get to it?" said Rita. Her voice was low and somewhat quiet, but every word could be heard loud and clear.

An anguished look passed over Linda's face. "I ... I didn't realize ... I mean ... Can't you just turn the pumps back on in the Control Room?"

Kevin shook his head. "When Sherry shut down the emergency system dump in her haste to help Elza, she did something that the people who built that setup for the City Sewer System never foresaw. The only way to restart that generator is manually, and there's no way to get to it except through the Central Hub – which is now flooded, of course. As soon as you open that door, the Main Pump Room's gonna flood, and that will ruin the generator and probably most of the ammo, too."

"But the gun shot when I—"

"You got lucky, Linda," Rita said. "Damn lucky – and you would have had to have tried real hard to miss, firing a Magnum at that close a range. You didn't know that the next bullet in the cylinder was a dud. Kevin found that out after Elza gave him the gun and he cleaned it."

Both of Linda's eyebrows shot up, and she stared at Kevin. "My gun?! She gave you MY gun?!"

"She said it wasn't yours anymore, and that you had lost the right to it after what you tried to pull on her," Kevin said. "She also took back her pistol and ammo, too, if you'll check your pockets. Anyway, there was only one other bullet in the cylinder that didn't look like a dud, because of being underwater so long, and I'm still not too sure about it." He regarded her sternly. "Before I'm going to trust you with any weapons, Miss Merton, I want to hear your version of events. I want to hear the whole story about what happened down there, and I also want to hear about you being in that truck in the Parking Garage. And I don't give a flying flip about any Umbrella company secrets that you might want to protect, Miss Merton – because right now you being as honest as you possibly can is all that's going to save you from us abandoning you to your fate down here. Is that clear?"

Linda stared open-mouthed at Kevin. Rita was eyeing him, too, with some alarm. She had expected Kevin to be tough on the woman – someone who, based on Elza and Sherry's earlier descriptions and the way the woman was behaving now, was little better than a constant complainer who enjoyed her role too much. But threatening to leave her to the zombies? That was almost as bad as what Linda claimed Elza was going to do. She started to say something, but a sidewise shake of Kevin's head in her direction caused her to hold back.

 

After a while, Linda took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay," she said, making a show of resignation. "I'll do it. But you've got to promise me that you'll be fair in hearing what I have to say. Okay?"

Kevin nodded. "Any time you're ready, Miss Merton."

* * * * *

Linda's tale began some time before the Outbreak itself. She had graduated with honors from the University of Chicago with a major in biochemistry and a minor in applied virology. This had attracted the attention of an area Umbrella talent scout who scoured the Western Great Lakes area looking for potential employees for Umbrella's many research divisions. She had done well enough both in her academic studies and on the various aptitude tests that she had been given by Umbrella that she had been offered a part-time job as a junior research assistant at their Chicago labs, while she continued her post-graduate studies. She had hoped to find enough time to work on her master's; however, the work at Umbrella had proven too intense and compelling, and she soon found herself drawn into the darker aspects of Umbrella's many research projects – including its then-still-very-secret research into bio-organic weaponry (B.O.W.) and the development of mutagenic virii with potential military applications. She had eventually abandoned working on her master's in order to go to work full-time for Umbrella. By her own account, she soon turned out to be one of Umbrella's top rising stars among its junior research staff – and this was what had eventually landed her a much-coveted job with the Chicago end of a top-secret B.O.W. project headed by one Dr. William Birkin.

"Sherry's father," Rita said.

Linda nodded. "Yes, and that's when my troubles began, Not right away, of course. Dr. Birkin and I got along very well together, and he considered me the best of the new research assistants he had been granted by his superiors. Of course, the only person who didn't care for this arrangement - or for me - was his head research assistant and wife, Annette. She had a doctorate, too, but she had passed on having her own department in order to stay with William. I think a lot of it also had to do with Sherry, who was very young at the time. I knew of her then from their talking about her and the pictures they occasionally showed of her to everyone at the lab, but I never met her in person until earlier today."

Annette was unstable, Linda explained, and was insanely jealous of anything and anyone who might threaten her relationship with her husband. She saw the attractive young Linda Merton as a potential threat right off the bat, and took whatever steps she could - sometimes physically interposing herself between the two during various research projects - to keep Linda away from her husband. Naturally, Linda related, when evidence began to surface a few months ago that there was an industrial spy loose somewhere within Umbrella's Chicago labs, Annette fingered Linda as the culprit. Matters were made even worse when it was found that someone had copied Linda's ID card and used it to access the secure area of the lab's storage archives. Linda was immediately proven innocent - she hadn't been anywhere near the archive at the time, and even had both security camera footage and multiple eyewitness testimony that proved otherwise ....

"... but none of it mattered to that bitch," Linda said. "I was the spy, and that was that. Two weeks later, my top secret clearance at the lab was revoked and I was abruptly transferred to Umbrella's downtown offices in Raccoon City. Dr. Birkin himself was quite apologetic about it - said he had nothing to do with it and was sorry to see me go - but Annette! Well, I never saw her gloat as much as she did when she saw me headed out the door on my last day there. It was in her eyes, of course. She never said a word, but it was all in her eyes."

"Of course," Kevin said, nodding and glancing at Rita. She pursed her lips but said nothing, so Linda continued with her tale.

"I wound up as the step-and-fetch-it to everybody there – even their junior researchers! Me! Once a top lab assistant, perhaps one of the best Umbrella had, and now I was little more than a glorified bellboy! It was humiliating, to say the least. And when that creepy Michael Carter began hitting on me, well ... anyway, as it turned out, Annette Birkin wasn't through with me yet. Oh, no. She hadn't forgotten about Linda Merton. Not by a long shot."

"Is this where that truck with the hunters comes in?" Kevin asked.

Linda nodded. "I didn't have a clue what was inside that truck, believe me. All I knew was that Captain Rodriguez, the head of the Security Service detachment at the downtown office, came and got me personally and escorted me to the garage. He showed me orders signed by Annette Birkin herself that I was to go with that truck to the old police station and present both it and its contents to Chief Clemons. I was to tell him that Umbrella had sent him a present to help him with his investigation - whatever that was - and once he had signed for the contents, I was to stay there and wait for further instructions. That's how I wound up in that truck, that's how I wound up in the Garage, that's how I found out what was really inside that truck and what Annette had planned for me all along - God, but how I hate that bitch now! - and that's how I got tangled up with your Redneck Rambo out there! And you want to know something else, Officer Ryman?!" Linda said, as her voice began to rise. She stood up and began pacing up and down in front of the two police officers, shaking her fists in her frustration at times. "I am sick and tired of people ordering me to do things that I don't normally do! I'm so tired of being a goddamn step-and-fetch-it! I am sick and tired of being bossed around by prissy selfish bitches who don't give a shit about anybody but themselves! And you want to know what else?! I'm also sick and tired of having to do things that are either gonna get me killed, or are set up by somebody trying to get me killed! I am sick and tired of this whole goddamn fucking Outbreak business, period! I just want outta here!" she pleaded, looking at both of them and holding out her arms in a pleading gesture. "I didn't ask for any of this! I'm a lab assistant, not a zombie hunter! I just want a normal life again! God, but how I want all of this to be over!" And with that Linda sat back down, her arms hugged tight against herself and her legs tucked in close, looking down at the floor and not saying another word. Tears streamed from both her eyes as she sat there, looking for all the world like a little girl lost, sitting in a chair or on a bench somewhere, waiting and hoping and perhaps even praying that by some miracle her parents would find her and take her home.

 

All was quiet at the alcove for about half-a-minute. Linda had by now pulled her knees up and was tucked into a little ball, rocking back and forth. She was shaking and muttering to herself, and she was still crying. When that half-minute or so had passed, Rita looked at Kevin and touched him on the arm. He looked back and nodded. "Would you excuse us, Miss Merton?" he said quietly. "Rita and I need to talk in private."

"Oh, go ahead," Linda said with a resigned air, not even looking at them. "You've probably already made up your minds about me. Anything more I say won't matter one bit."

Kevin started to speak, but another touch on the arm from Rita and her silently shaking her head caused him to hold his tongue. Instead, he simply nodded at Linda - who did not respond or even acknowledge him - and together with Rita walked some distance away. The could still see Linda in the alcove but she would not be able to hear what they were saying to each other, provided they kept their voices low.

"What do you think?" Kevin said in hushed tones.

"Professional victim," Rita responded promptly, also keeping her voice low. "Like Miss Danvers at Ginger's apartment building. I'll bet she's got a complaint or gripe for every occasion, and all kinds of excuses as to why nothing is her fault whenever anything goes wrong."

"That makes two of us," Kevin responded. He glanced back at Linda again, who was still mumbling and rocking herself back and forth in the alcove, apparently oblivious to everyone and everything, then returned his gaze to Rita. "You noticed how she danced around that business in the East Tank Room?"

"Uh-huh," Rita said. "But it's nice to know the story behind that Umbrella truck in the Garage – at least her version of it, anyway. I wonder how much of it's really true?"

"My guess is a great deal," Kevin said. "Embellished, of course, in her favor. I'm sure Sherry could clear some of that other stuff up if we asked her about it."

"You think so?" Rita said. "Parents don't usually talk about stuff like that in front of their kids."

"But apparently hers did," Kevin said, "according to some of the things Elza said when she talked to us about Linda. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Rita said. She looked thoughtful. "What are we going to do about her, Kevin? Aside from her medical skills - which are pretty good, apparently, but I have 'em too - she's about as useful as a boat anchor right now."

"I don't know," Kevin said. "I honestly don't know. Right now I think the best thing to do is—"

Kevin never got to finish what he was going to say, because he was interrupted by the sound of distant gunfire. At once Kevin and Rita had their pistols out and at the ready. Linda had popped out of her ball and was standing in front of the alcove, a look of fear on her face. All three of them stared down the tunnel where Elza, John, and Sherry had gone to take their "little walk" – the end of the tunnel that led to the distant storm drain exit.

 

"The others," Rita said, glancing at Kevin. She was in a perfect firing stance, her Beretta up and at the ready in a braced two-handed grip, ready to open up on anything that approached that wasn't human at a moment's notice. "Sounds like our planned escape route is blocked."

"Yeah," Kevin said. He too was in an identical stance, holding his Glock autopistol before him in the same two-handed grip. "Damn. Well, better get your rifle. You might be able to do some long-range sniping, given how big this storm drain is."

"Good idea," Rita said. "Can you hold the fort?"

"Long enough," Kevin said. "Hurry."

Rita broke her stance and rushed to the alcove. In one single scoop she had snagged both the backpack John had left behind and her hunting rifle. In one smooth motion her arms were through the backpack straps and it was on her back, her Beretta was holstered, and she now held the hunting rifle before her with both hands. She worked the bolt and chambered a round, then held the rifle at a "ready arms" position as she headed back towards Kevin farther down the tunnel.

"Hey," Linda called after them. "Don't I get a gun too?"

"You just stay back there," Kevin responded. "If things break, run like hell. It'll probably be the only chance you get."

"Oh, swell," Linda said. "Here I go again." She moved to the far end of the alcove, the one whose corner connected with the end of the storm drain tunnel that ran back underground, and held herself as ready as she could - and weaponless, she cursed inwardly - for whatever was about to happen. Then again, why wait?

A couple of minutes later, Kevin and Rita heard more gunfire. It was a lot closer now, and they could just make out the sound of running feet. Seconds later, all three of their missing companions came into view at the far end of the tunnel in front of Kevin and Rita. Elza was carrying Sherry on her back, and both she and John were running with all their might. Sherry kept looking back with a terrified expression, and occasionally crying out at the others. "They're still coming! I can hear them!! C'mon!!! There they are! Oh, help us, please, please help us! The zombies and monsters are coming!!" Now Kevin and Rita could hear the moans and groans, and the sounds of both shod and unshod feet moving at a shuffling gait. There was also another sound, too – the clicking of large claws on concrete, and a weird breathy hiss the likes of which they had never heard before. Kevin and Rita steeled themselves in firing poses, while Linda ...

Linda was gone. The only signs she had ever been there were her Umbrella uniform jacket, which she had left behind, and the echoes of her running footsteps fading in the tunnel behind them. Kevin never bothered to look back. Instead, he stole a sidewise look at Rita and grinned. "Well, that takes care of that problem," he said.

"Score one for the good guys," Rita said. "Here we go. As soon the others get clear—"

"—we open fire, knock the wind of whatever's coming at us, then turn and run like hell, too," Kevin said. "Linda's got the right idea. She just didn't have anybody else to worry about except herself."

Rita took in a deep breath, then raised the rifle to her shoulder. "I love you, Kevin,"

Kevin tightened his grip on the Glock. "I love you too, Rita."

\------------------------------

Chapter 15 - Reckoning

It was one of the most intense "last stand" sort of things in which Kevin could ever remember having to take part.

Elza and John, with Elza carrying Sherry on her back, had literally come flying down the tunnel as fast as their pumping legs would take them. Behind them, almost at their heels, came the literal zombie horde out of every pulp comic, bad movie, and schlocky videogame ever made. They were of all shapes, sizes, grades of decomposition, and even color – if you can count multiple shades of red and blue-tinged dead skin, occasionally accented by whatever faded, stained, and mostly obscured colors remained visible on what was left of their clothing or other attire. It seemed as if there were hundreds of them moving down that tunnel in Kevin and Rita's direction ... but they were not the worst. The Crimson Zombies were there in force as well, leading the pack and running far ahead of them, and it was they who were the closest to overtaking the trio trying to flee them. Even so, that was not the worst threat. Along with the zombie horde and its Crimson Zombie flankers, scouts, and bush-beaters came a third and new kind of threat. It was the size and general shape of a young grown man, but neither looked nor behaved like one – nor like any zombie, for that matter. It skittered and scampered up and down the walls and across the tunnel ceiling at a high-speed crawl which easily kept pace with the Crimsons. It had long prehensile claws like the Crimsons, save that its claws were much longer – almost double the length, in fact. As for its appearance, well ... it looked like somebody had taken a normal human, removed the skeleton, turned it inside-out, then stuck the skeleton back in. Everything was there, but it had the dreadful and disquieting appearance of being so ... exposed ... like a man who had been freshly skinned and then tossed back out into the street. That was bad enough, but these new monsters acted as if this was perfectly normal for them. They could apparently see, hear, and sense just as well as the Crimsons, if not better, despite their apparent lack of either functional or non-functional organs for doing so. And the peculiar corkscrew breathy hiiissssss that they made ... well, it was enough to shove icicles into the spine of even the strongest person. The worst part of it was that all of this - the zombie horde, the Crimsons, and this new threat - dropped straight down on Kevin and Rita like a tidal wave ... and came very close to washing them away with it. There was simply no way Kevin and Rita could hold off that entire mass of the undead all by themselves ... but they had to hold them off long enough for the others to escape their grasp. After that, it would most definitely be run-like-hell time for all of them.

It was Rita who began firing first, picking off the pink crawling things as they skittered along the walls and ceiling straight for them. "Like fish in a barrel," she muttered, as she squeezed off another around and another of the things dropped writhing to the hard concrete floor with a loud crackling splat! "I just wish I had more ammo." She used eleven of her remaining twenty-three rounds for the hunting rifle ... but all hit home. She put each round in its intended target without wasting a single shot – and each time she fired, one of the pink things went down and never got up again..

While Rita sniped the overhead threat, Kevin dealt with the ones below. He fired to either side of the rapidly advancing trio of their friends, occasionally dropping a Crimson in the process. This slowed but did not stop them. One or two would completely halt to tear into their former undead comrade, but the rest of the undead mass behind soon pressed around and sometimes even over them. Those Crimsons which remained on their feet quickly adapted, zigzagging or trying to stay behind the fleeing trio for cover, prevented only from doing so by their sheer mass of numbers. Yet try as they might to catch their prey, Kevin and Rita's tactics were proving effective. The gap was opening up. There was going to be a space of a few precious seconds between the time they were reunited with their friends and when the undead horde would close on all of them.

As Rita was squeezing off another round, Kevin called to her. "Hey, Rita!" he yelled, as he continued to spray bullets ahead. "I got an idea. Grab one of my last two flash-bangs, will ya? You know what to do."

Rita grinned. "Good idea!" She immediately slung her rifle over her shoulder and pulled her pistol all in the same motion. At the same time, she sidestepped over to Kevin, grabbed at his right side pants pocket with her left hand, and extracted the flash-bang. She expertly removed the pin with the thumb of the same hand which held the grenade -- then lowered her pistol and fired three shots at one of the pink things which had skittered out ahead of the horde. It fell to the deck screaming and within seconds was trampled underfoot. "Ready when you are!" she said.

Kevin nodded. "Guys, don't look back when you pass us!" he called ahead. "Rita's about to throw a grenade! When she does, we're all going to break for it! Got it?!"

"Got it!" Elza called. The two officers were now coming up fast. They would past them within seconds. "Close your eyes, Sherry!" she said.

"Closed!" Sherry responded.

"Ahm ... cummn' ...!" puffed John beside her.

It was over in a matter of seconds. Running with all of their might, Elza with Sherry with John right beside her, the trio sprinted past the two police officers. As soon as they did, Rita cocked her left arm and then threw the flash-bang back down the tunnel. "FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!" she cried, even as both she and Kevin came to their feet, pivoted around, and ran for their lives after the others.

Almost instantly the storm drain was filled with the sound of a thunderclap at point-blank range that echoed and rolled past the fleeing survivors. There was a blinding flash of light behind them that lasted for several seconds. None of them looked back. They simply kept running.

By this time Kevin and Rita had caught up with the others. "Elza!" he called. "Your Sewers map! I need it!"

"Sherry!" Elza called, not breaking stride or looking back. "Left side pouch on vest! Right behind the ammo clips! Can you reach it?"

Sherry felt Elza's arms grip her even tighter than before as she removed one of her own from around Elza's neck. She reached down and fumbled at Elza's armor vest. The up-and-down motion from Elza's running made it difficult, but the little girl kept at it. "Got it!" she said at last, sitting back up with a still-damp folded piece of paper in her left hand.

"Hand it back – to Kevin!" Elza said as she ran.

Sherry tried to keep her one-handed grip on Elza while she stretched her left arm back as far as she could. She bent her head back and around as well, and saw that Kevin was directly behind them. He put on an extra burst of speed and sprinted forward, then snatched the folded map out of her hand. "Thanks!" he grinned at her. "You're good!"

"You're welcome!" she responded cheerfully, then reached back forward and gripped Elza with both arms again.

Kevin unfolded the map and glanced at it as he ran. He also glanced at various places in the storm drain that they passed – noting side passage, signage, and other prominent features. After a while, he called out. "Okay, folks! Take the next turn to the right! Elza, have your Water Key ready!"

"But the storm drains—" Rita began.

Kevin interrupted her. "New plan! No time! Will explain later – if we make it! Now move, people! One last little bit to go!"

They ran with all the energy they had left. The undead horde was still well behind them around the last bend in the tunnel they had cleared, but the growing sounds indicated they were closing the distance fast. It took but a few seconds to past the first tunnel to the right and reach the second, and then they were all inside. They had only gone a short distance down it, however, when a familar-looking floor-to-ceiling barred grate with an inset door blocked their way.

"Water Key," Kevin gasped. He was trying to catch his breath, as were the others.

Elza stumbled over to the door, panting heavily herself. She released her grip on Sherry with one hand, then fished the Water Key out of one of her pockets. As she did so, however, one of her shoulders brushed the grate door and it swung into the tunnel beyond. She looked back at Kevin and the others. "Door's ... open ...!" she panted.

"Everyone inside!" Kevin commanded. "Lock it as we pass, Elza. Everyone, get ready to run again! One more time – I hope!"

Everyone quickly filed through the door. Elza slammed it shut and locked it with the Water Key, even as they heard the outliers of the undead horde turn into the tunnel mouth back the way they had come.

Kevin waved his hand at everyone, then pointed down the darkened tunnel ahead of them. "Leg it!!!" he cried out ... and so they did.

How long they ran and how far, none of them could ever remember for sure. What they did remember was Kevin finally holding up one hand and bringing them to a halt. Everyone stopped moving and listened. It was very dim in the tunnel Kevin had chosen, with only the occasional light to illuminate the way. Condensation was everywhere – on the ceilings, the walls, and the floor. It was also very quiet, now that they had stopped moving. Everyone strained to hear, listening for the slightest sign of pursuit behind them, but there was none. Kevin drew in a deep breath, then exhaled in an exaggerated fashion which suggested relief or satisfaction. "I think we lost 'em," he said simply. He found the nearest wall, put his back to it, and sank down onto the floor in a seated position, motioning for the others to do the same. "Take five – no, take fifteen, if nothing surprises us. You deserve it. Good job, everyone. Good job."

Everyone was still sitting in the darkened tunnel, and were by now breathing normally, when John spoke. "Wheah is we, boss? I ain't been in dis part of da Sewers before."

"Few have, I'm guessing," Kevin said. He pulled out the map, unfolded it and glanced at it one more time, then folded it back up and handed it to Elza. "This is supposed to be a restricted access tunnel. I was hoping Elza's Water Key would open it. I didn't know somebody had left the door open."

"But where does it go?" Rita asked.

"To the Umbrella Factory Complex on the other side of the river," Kevin answered nonchalantly.

"The Factory?!" Elza exclaimed. "The Umbrella Factory?!?! Are you crazy, Kevin?"

Kevin looked at her. "What do you mean?" he asked calmly.

"That's where this whole Outbreak business most likely started in the first place!" Elza said, the pitch and tone of her voice matching those of her initial exclamation. "You're taking us right into the center of this disaster, Kevin! Zombie central!!"

"You got a better idea?" Kevin said evenly. He cast glances at all of them. "C'mon everyone. Speak up. Now's the time. Let's get it out of our systems before we move on."

"This is insane," Elza said. She quickly unfolded the map and began to peruse it herself. "Surely there's another storm drain nearby we can try."

"And again run into what you, Sherry, and John did at the exit you tried? I don't think we'd survive a second attempt – and we don't have the spare ammo anymore to even try, Elza."

"You think the zombies are at all of the storm drain entrances." Rita said.

"Almost willin' to bet money on it, now that I think about it and given what's happened." Kevin said. He put one hand up to his chin and rubbed it. "Homeless people who were squatting in them for shelter, regular folk living near or who happened to be in the area and seeking any place safe to escape the Outbreak, and the like. It would have also been a perfect place for the undead to hunt – and I'm willing to bet some of those who fled to the drains were already infected." He leaned his head back on the wall, then sighed and closed his eyes. "I should have seen it beforehand, but I was too busy trying to keep everything together in my mind. Now we have no choice – none at all." He looked over at Elza. "Would you mind telling everyone else what that map says, Elza?"

Elza looked up from the map. She looked like she was not very happy, and was also doing her best to hold it in. "I think you called it, Kevin. This tunnel you chose was about the only one we could have taken to get out of that jam, given the way that storm drain ran and all the other tunnels connecting to it. That one we passed? Snakes off to the waterfront. The ones on the left we ran by? Back downtown and back into the Sewers. It was a good thing we came out where we did, because this is the only tunnel in the area that could have taken us out of Raccoon City proper."

"But we're still not out of Raccoon City," Rita pointed out. "It sits on both sides of the river."

"Yes, but the bulk of it is to the south of the river, from where we just came," Elza noted. "We're moving northeast towards the industrial district, where the Factory is located – and if I read the map right, we'll come out right on the edge of it, where all the big warehouses are right down from the train yard. Nowhere near as densely populated as the city proper - hell, the only people that would have been in there were those who worked there - so maybe we won't have to do as much fighting to get out."

"Mebbe we could hop a train," John said.

Everyone turned and stared at him. He stared back for a moment, blinked, and then looked down. "Well ..." he stammered ... "it wuz an idea, anyway."

"At least your heart's in the right place, if not your head," Rita said, smiling at him. She patted him on the arm, and John went through his aw-shucks blushing routine.

Elza looked thoughtful. "You know," she mused, "now that I think about it, we just might be heading into the eye of the storm."

"What do you mean?" Kevin said.

"Well, consider this," Elza said. "If the Factory is from where the Outbreak started, then it's had four days to do its worst there. Plus the fact that there's not going to be a lot of people in there anyway to turn into zombies, being an industrial area and all. We just might get lucky and find ourselves in fairly easy going for once. I'm not going to hope for no zombies at all - I know better - but still ..." She stopped speaking and looked at the others. All could see the hope that she was postulating dancing in her eyes.

"Maybe," Kevin said carefully, "but I wouldn't count on it. If it turns out to be the case, though, then the Factory might be an ideal location to hole up for a while – leastways until we can all get some rest." He nodded at Sherry. She had been sitting between Elza and John, but she had fallen asleep while listening to the grown-ups talk. Her hands were in her lap and her head lay on the big man's thigh. She was breathing evenly, and had the cherubic face of a child who was content and secure in her slumber. Kevin now addressed the others again. "We're all feeling beat and frayed around the edges right now, and it's small wonder – given the hell of a night we've just been through. But my watch says it's just after four-thirty in the morning, and that tells me we need to find some place soon to get some rest. We're not going to get out of Raccoon City today. With some sleep, though, we can clear the Factory tomorrow and then get the hell outta town." He now looked at John. "I think you had the right idea with the train, John, although the wrong kind of vehicle. Ever drive a big rig?"

 

"Nope," John promptly replied, "but Ise drove dump trucks of all sizes an' odah kinds of big stuff – tractors, backhoes, dump buckets, an' da lak - on site when da job called for it."

"Close enough," Kevin said. "I have, and I can tell you the inside of a big dump truck and the inside of a big rig cab are practically identical. You'll do fine. Here's the plan, folks. Tomorrow, after we're rested and such, we're going to search the Factory and surrounding area for a big rig, or a big truck, or even a large panel truck of some kind. We're looking for something that's both big enough and sufficiently fast enough that we can just plow over or through any zombies that might try to stop us, and avoid what happened to Elza's friends yesterday." He nodded at her, and she nodded back in understanding. "Once we find it, we're going to load up and drive out of town, cutting east as soon as we can so we don't get caught in the Arklay Mountains. Everything in the mountains' cradle is probably thoroughly infected, given that's where the old Spencer Mansion is and a lot of other Umbrella stuff, too. We'll just avoid it completely and cut due east. That way, hopefully, we'll eventually find an Army patrol or even the blockade itself, if we have to go that far. Once that happens, we should be safe. Any questions?"

"Yes," Elza said. "Where's Linda?"

"Hey, yeah ..." John said, glancing around. "Where'd she go? She wuz wid you guys, weren't she?" he said, looking at Kevin and Rita.

The two police officers looked at each other, then looked back at the others. "She ran out on us," Kevin said flatly. "She spun her tale while you three were away, and soon as she figured out Rita and I weren't buying, she went into hysterics and then clammed up. When we heard you guys coming with the literal zombie apocalypse at your heels, I told her she needed to be ready to run at a moment's notice." Kevin sighed. "She didn't wait."

"Selfish bitch," Elza muttered. "It's just what I'd expect of her."

"Elza ... " Rita said. She caught Elza's gaze and held it until Elza looked away. "For all we know she could be dead by now. No one deserves to die getting torn apart by zombies – not even Linda."

"Well, there's a whole lot of nothing we can do about her right now, so the best thing to do is let her go and move on." Kevin said. He now stood up. "Okay, folks. Let's get a move on ourselves, and get to the Factory while we still can." As the others began to stand up, he continued. "Be on your guard for anything. Rita, if you don't mind keeping our backpack, let John carry Sherry."

"I don't mind," Rita said with a smile, as John gently picked up the now half-awake Sherry. "It's nowhere near as heavy as it used to be, anyway."

Sherry made small protesting noises as John picked her up, but settled back down once he had her firmly on his back. "Dere, dere," he said, as she settled her head on his shoulder. "You res' eezee, Sherry. Uncle John's gotcha now, an' I'll carry ya. You jes' go back ta sleep ... ahhhh, good girl," he concluded, in a soft and consoling tone which was quite out of character for such a big and rough-looking man.

"Wow, John," Rita said in a half-whisper. "I didn't know you were good with kids."

"Mah bruddah Robert's gots two of 'em, a boy an' a girl," he said with a smile. "Dey is 'bout her age, mebbe a little youngah. I alwuz play wid 'em whenevah I goes ta visit him. Kids are fun," he concluded, with one of the most honest smiles any of them had ever seen.

* * * * *

This time they walked instead of ran. The tunnel was dimly lit, with only the occasional regular light bulb inside of a stereotypical protective heavy wire shield like one might see in many underground locales. Both the cabling for lights and other cables, along with a narrow pipe or two of unknown function, followed the wall as far as the tunnel was long. Everything was fastened to it by rusted metal clamps at regular intervals. The tunnel was even more clammy and its walls more wet with condensation than before, for now they were directly under the river that divided the southern and northern halves of Raccoon City, residential/commercial and industrial. They also were able to move along unopposed for the first time since their shared Outbreak adventure had begun. The only signs of life in the tunnel, aside from the occasional patch of half-dead slime on the walls, ceiling, and floor, were the usual denizens of dark and hidden places – and most of them scurried or scampered away into the nearest small hole or crack as soon as the humans approached. Only the more bold, such as some of the larger rats, held their ground and watched their unusual guests pass them by. The humans made no move of any kind towards them, unless you count looking and occasionally commenting, and they did likewise. Something about this particular group of humans, the way they walked and talked, and the way they carried themselves, screamed keep back in large capital letters to their collective instinct. That they did. This allowed the humans to continue on their way undisturbed and uncontested.

They were probably just over halfway through the tunnel when Kevin dropped back until he was walking with Elza, who was acting as rearguard. He kept his eyes ahead as he spoke in a low tone. "How's our tail doing?"

Elza likewise kept her face forward and her eyes ahead. "So you noticed, too?" she replied, also in a low tone.

"Couldn't help it, with all the racket she's making," Kevin chuckled. "Rita was aware of her before I was. I figure she picked up on Linda about the same time you did. John's been concentrating on trying not to jostle Sherry too much, but even he's heard her, too."

"Rita's got sharp ears," Elza said, "and so does John. Miss Merton is about a quarter-click back, trying to move from shadow to shadow and not doing a very good job of it. She's tripped and almost fallen twice since I've started keeping an eye on her. It also looks like she's found a stick or piece or wood or something with which to defend herself." She grinned. "Between you and me, Kevin, I don't think she wants to be left behind."

"Any idea on how we missed her?"

"One, and I'm still not sure about it. Remember that gate being open to this tunnel?

"Yeah."

"I think she got in here before we did, then hid in one of those alcoves or side areas at the first part of the tunnel until we passed her. After that, she started following us."

"So how did she get the tunnel door open?"

"That's the part of my theory that doesn't work. She's supposed to be in the doghouse with Umbrella, remember? So how could she have come up with a copy of the key which opens that door?"

Kevin thought for a moment. "She might have gotten it from that cabinet in the Sewers Control Room, where all those other keys were hanging."

"Yeah, I thought of that – but she would have had no reason to take it at the time. We didn't even know or expect that we were coming this way until it happened."

"I guess we won't know until we're all back together again, eh?" Kevin said, shooting Elza a sidewise wink as he did.

"Probably not," Elza said, also winking back. "When do you want to make our move?"

"As soon as we get near the exit," Kevin said. "She strikes me as the kind of person you want to have in front of you where you can see her, rather than behind you or out of sight where she can do the most harm."

"I agree," Elza said. "Just give the word when you're ready."

Kevin was now back up front with Rita, with John carrying Sherry behind them and Elza to the rear watching their backs. "How much farther?" Rita asked.

"Hard to say," Kevin replied. "I guess we'll know once the tunnel starts going up, you think?"

"It's already going up," Rita said, "only slightly. It started doing that about ten minutes ago. You'd have to be paying attention to catch it, though. I'm figgerin' it'll start to really slant here before long."

"You've always had an eye for details, Rita." Kevin said warmly. "That's one of the reasons people like you so much. You're like an elephant who never forgets."

"An elephant?!" Rita hissed in mock incredulity - but she smiled as she did so, and her eyes were dancing with mirth.

"Well – uhhhh, ummmm, a very nice and good-looking elephant?" Kevin stammered.

Rita laughed. "You better quit now while you can, young man. You're only diggin' yourself in deeper."

Now it was Kevin's turn to laugh. "Seems like I miss more than I hit whenever I'm trying to say something smooth and sophisticated to you ladies."

"As long as you're yourself, you're all right," Rita said. "Whenever you try to play Joe Cool, though, you're no good. You only come across as a jerk. Ginger once told me you had managed to piss off every single woman down at Jack's Bar trying to hit on them – including that new waitress of his, Cindy Lennox. And that woman reporter from the Raccoon Press? Ashcroft, I think is her name? What she said she'd do the next time you tried to hit on her is, well ... it isn't very nice – and it would hurt like hell if I were a guy," she finished, grinning at him.

"Yeah," Kevin said slowly, looking down. "I was thinking about finding a new place to hang out, given my luck there and all."

"If you tried to skip out on that big bar tab you owe Jack–"

"I'd have paid him!" Kevin looked over at her, somewhat frustrated. His voice began to settle back down "I would have, Rita. Honest."

"I know you would have, hon," Rita said. "But that's my little bit of wisdom for you today. Just be yourself. It's what you're best at. You're a natural at a lot of stuff, Kevin – like the way you're leading us down here through all this. Just be yourself, and you'll find your life goin' a whole lot easier than it has been. Oh, and don't oversleep anymore, either."

Kevin shook his head. "I have fallen in love with a grade 'A' gossip who knows everything about me even before I've had a chance to learn about her." He sighed and smiled. "Oh, well. There are worse fates in life."

She reached over and patted him on the shoulder. "Deal with it, big boy. It was your choice – and mine, too, by the way. Never forget that. Aaahh! There goes the tunnel floor, just like I said. Won't be long now."

He had felt the slope of the floor noticeably slant upwards under his feet even as she talked. He peered down the dimly lit tunnel. Far, far in the distance, how far he could not judge in the dimness, there seemed to be a little speck of grey that was brighter than the grey around it. "All right, people," he called out. "We're on the upslope now. There's an end to this tunnel, and we'll be at it soon. Just a little longer, folks."

* * * * *

Linda stumbled up the now steep slope of the tunnel floor in her haste to reach the exit. The others had passed through some time before. She was alone and unencumbered as she made her way as best she could, having dropped the broken board she had been using for a club in the process. She was a mess. Her hair was in disarray, and her coverall was rent and torn in places from the various falls she had taken ever since beginning her solitary journey. One of her flats had split open at the toe and she had bound it together with a piece of old twine scavenged from a pile of sewer flotsam. The other was in imminent danger of also splitting open, because their sewer-water-soaked leather simply could no longer deal with the constant abuse Linda was giving them. She was grimy from head to toe, and she knew she must smell pretty ripe. All the same, though, she was on her own – and she was surviving on her own, too! She didn't need Queen Bitch Elza to protect her – she could do it on her own. And she had even found her own weapon and had killed with it, too. It was only an old and lame rat which hadn't been fast enough to get away from her, but all the same .... She had felt good doing that. It had helped to take a lot of the edge off of the anger and frustration that had been bubbling over within her ever since she fled down the storm drain. Let the others clear the path! They seemed to think they knew what they were doing. Why not let them? That way, she could survive with relative ease.

Linda could now clearly see the outline of the end of the under-river tunnel. The room or tunnel beyond, or whatever it was, seemed to be brilliantly lit – in comparison to the dim lighting with which she was currently having to deal. It seemed to entice her, to beckon to her, to urge her on. "I am here," she could almost hear it call. "I am the way out. Won't you take me?" Half-running and half-stumbling as fast as her damaged flats would take her, she quickly ascended to the tunnel exit, stepped through ...

... and walked straight into a well-laid trap.

As soon as she was past the entrance, two sets of hands shot out from either side of the door behind her and grabbed her. She cried out, struggled, wriggled, thrashed, tried to hit and kick – but it was no good. They had her, and held her firmly as she was literally dragged down to the floor and pinned there. She began cursing and swearing at anything and everything, using every curse and swear word she had ever heard and even making up a few on the spot in her anger and frustration.

"Oh, pipe down, Linda," she heard Elza say. "We're not going to hurt you."

Elza Walker. Oh ... my ... God ... HER! Not HER!!

Linda stopped struggling long enough to look up. She was in another tunnel, larger and better lit than the first one. It wasn't nearly as big as the storm drain on the other side of the river; nevertheless, it was comfortably big compared with most of the tunnels in the Sewers. Kevin and John were the ones who were holding her down, while Elza and Rita stood in front of her and watched. As for the Birkin girl, she appeared to be curled up fast asleep in one of the nearby tunnel corners. Linda looked straight at Elza and spat at her ... and missed completely.

"Linda, you need to settle down and behave," Rita said. "All we want to do is help you--"

"Is that why your boyfriend is groping me, and this fat oaf is practically sitting on top of me?!" Linda demanded. She began to struggle again. "Let ... me ... GO... you ... fuckers!"

Rita stepped up and knelt down on her haunches. From her police utility belt she produced a pair of handcuffs, which she now held in front of Linda's face. "Are you going to make me use these?" she said, calmly but deliberately.

Linda stopped struggling at once. She looked at the cuffs and then at Rita. She glanced back at her captors, then at the cuffs, then at Rita again. The other woman's cold stare hadn't changed an inch, and she still held up the cuffs about two inches from Linda's nose. Linda slumped and looked down. "No," she said. "I'll settle down."

Rita nodded. "Okay, boys, let her go," she said, "but stay ready all the same,"

The two men let go of Linda and got up, stepping away to either side. Kevin moved to the front with Rita and Elza, within easy arm's reach of where the new tunnel led off in the distance. John planted himself firmly behind Linda in the doorway to the under-river tunnel. There was nowhere for Linda to hide or flee.

Kevin produced a small comb from his back pocket, and passed it a couple of times through his hair to smooth it back down – for it had been badly mussed in his struggle with Linda. Once the comb was back in his pocket, he looked at her and spoke. "I think it's high time we finish that conversation we started earlier, Miss Merton. Don't you?"

* * * * *

Getting the truth out of Linda was like trying to extract teeth the old-fashioned, Wild West way – with only a pair of pliers and a bottle of whiskey, save that there was no whiskey available. Nevertheless, under careful cross-examination by Rita and Kevin, with the occasional interjection or needling by Elza, Linda's side of what had happened in the West Tank Room was finally told in full.

"... and if I had only known that bitch over there was going to tie me up and throw me to the zombies--" Linda was grumbling.

"I was NOT going to throw you to the zombies!" Elza interjected. "I had to tie your hands together so I could hang you over my back and get you up that damn ladder somehow without falling off myself, all right?!"

"Okay, okay, everybody settle down," Rita said, holding out her arm and moving her hand in a "back off" motion. "I thought we had that point settled. Linda, you were unconscious. That ladder goes straight up, and she needed both her hands and feet to get up it. She wasn't doing you any different than any of the rest of us might have done."

"So you'd throw me to the zombies, too?" Linda said, eyeing her.

"Oh, this is impossible!" Elza said, spinning around and half-stamping one of her feet in exasperation. "She won't listen, Rita, so you may as well quit trying."

"Well, at least we've established this much," Kevin said, from his folded-arm lean on the wall near the open end of the tunnel. "Linda wasn't trying to kill you, Elza. She was just trying to get her own form of revenge, and it backfired badly on her. Sherry tried to help you but wound up only making things worse. All the same, she wound up helping you anyway, and it turned out for the best. Two things are clear to me. First, you and Linda need to be kept apart as much as possible for both your sakes. Second, the late Ed Norton is one very dead Sewers system supervisor." He pulled his new Magnum out of his holster and looked at it. "At least we got something for all our troubles," he said, then looked up, "although we could have done better than we did – but enough of that. It's all behind us now, and we're all still alive. That's all anyone could really ask in this sort of situation."

The tunnel fell silent for a few minutes. Rita got up from where she had been sitting in front of Linda, and walked over to Kevin. This left Linda alone in the middle of the floor, because John was still standing guard over the doorway to the under-river tunnel. As for Elza, she was in the corner with Sherry, checking on the sleeping little girl.

LInda, who looked quite miserable and alone, finally spoke. "Well?" she said in a low voice. "What are you going to do with me?"

Rita looked at Kevin. Kevin looked back, then over at Elza, who rolled her eyes before returning her attention to Sherry. He next looked at John, who simply shrugged his shoulders. "I think," Kevin said slowly, "that if it were up to me, and it looks like it is, that I would say you can continue to come with us – if you want, Miss Merton. No strings, no cuffs, no promises. It's a free offer, and it'll only be by your free choice. But you have got to behave, or it's on your own for good this time. Got it?"

"Got it," Linda mumbled, not looking at him.

Elza looked over from the sleeping Sherry, her doubt plain to see on her face. "I don't want her anywhere near me if I can help it."

"Well, you'll be with John from now on, so don't worry about it." Kevin said. He stared hard at her, and after a few moments she turned away, mumbling something he couldn't quite hear, although he thought at least two of the words were chauvenist and pigsty. He walked over beside RIta, then looked at the others. "We'll split up again as soon as we're at the Factory, in order to cover more ground. Rita, you and I will go with Linda. Elza and John will take Sherry with them. First order of business is--"

"Excuse me," Linda said. She came to her feet and stood there, looking at the two police officers. "Did you say the Factory? As in the Umbrella Factory Complex north of town?"

"That's right," Kevin said. "We're now on the other side of the river, right on the edge of the Factory. We're going to look for a place to hole up and rest for a while, to get our strength back, and then we're going to find some kind of heavy-duty vehicle and get out of town." He paused for a moment, and then a slow smile spread across his face. "And since we'll be doing a lot of running around in a place that's owned by Umbrella, well, it would help our cause a lot if we had an Umbrella employee along to help us. Not as a tag-along, or a step-and-fetch-it, but an authority on Umbrella, Miss Merton, to guide us and help us on all things Umbrella we might run into – and you're the only one we've got. Interested?"

Linda looked thoughtful. For the first time since she had been made to rejoin the group, she no longer seemed angry or resentful. "You actually need me," she said in a hushed tone.

"Yes," Kevin said, nodding. "Unless you know someone who might be able to do a better job." He looked at her for a bit more, then deliberately shifted his gaze to Elza. She was watching both Linda and the two police officers with a what the hell is going on? expression.

"Oh no, no, no," Linda said hurriedly – and she also broke a smile for the first time since their informal reunion. "There's no one here who knows more about Umbrella than me."

"That's good," Rita said. She had already discerned what Kevin was doing and decided that the best thing to do was play along. "I mean, with all that travel you've done in Umbrella's employ and working at different offices and such. Maybe it'll help here."

"I have to admit, I never actually worked at the Factory," Linda said, her smile growing bigger, "but I know a lot about it from having to work downtown. And that's where Dr. Birkin has his main research lab, so I'll know a lot of the people, too. It shouldn't be too different from any other Umbrella research facility, other than the industrial disguise around its edges."

"Then you'll show us the way?" Kevin said, casting a sidewise grin at Rita, who grinned back.

"But of course!" Linda exclaimed breezily. "Who else can?"

"Oh, brother," Elza muttered, so low that Linda couldn't hear her. "She's actually buying it. Kevin, you scamp." Then she grinned as she began to pick up Sherry. "I'm glad you're our leader. I never could have pulled off that con job."

* * * * *

The survivors were on the move again. They moved as a group, although that group was now clearly split into two distinct parts. At the front was the first part, consisting of Elza, John, and Sherry. Elza was in front serving as point, with her MAC-11 autopistol in hand and her Sig Sauer P228 in her armor vest's side holster. John was right behind her, backing her up with the late Roy's Sig Sauer P228, which he still carried in the gunbelt he had looped over his shoulder and around his chest. The Remington police shotgun for which Rita had traded the rifle with him was hung over his shoulder with its improvised duct-tape-and-electrical cord sling, and his trusty 'zombie knocker' was tied on an improvised loop hanging from his belt. Sherry walked behind them both, or between them, depending on the width of the tunnels through which they passed. There was a bit of a gap, and then came the second part of the group – consisting of Rita, Linda, and Kevin in that order. Kevin was acting as rearguard, and he had positioned Linda between him and Rita "just in case," as he kept telling himself. Linda was not armed, and would not be if Kevin (or Elza) had anything to say about it; however, both police officers were. Rita had both her Beretta pistol and the hunting rifle she had proven so good at using, whereas Kevin was wearing his Glock autopistol on his left hip cross-draw style from a standard police gunbelt, while his new Magnum found a home in the tactical holster on his right thigh that his now-stored Kimber used to fill. It had turned out to be a nice fit. Both his now nearly-empty Kimber and the spare SiG Sauer he had picked up back at the RPD were stowed away inside the backpack that John was now wearing again. Kevin's SPAS-12 shotgun remained slung over his shoulder, like the other two with long guns. A definite shortage of ammo for all three had all but dictated use of small arms only for the survivors. To make matters more difficult, only Kevin and Rita had working radios – but Rita had given Elza hers not long before they got underway, explaining, "You'll need this more than I will. I'll share Kevin's." Elza had given her a knowing look, then thanked her. All of their other supplies were spread out on their persons, even Sherry - who had been given one of the boxes of nine millimeter ammo by Elza to replace the Magnum ammo she had previously carried - and saved - for them. That was now with Kevin, since he had the Magnum. Even Linda had something to carry – in this case, the small duffel bag they had retrieved from the Sewers Break Room and which now held various medical and other non-weapons-related supplies. She bore her burden as did the rest, although now and again one got the impression that someone else should be carrying that bag, and not her. She was simply too important now for such trifles.

The map showed that they had to ascend three levels of tunnels to get back up to the one below street level. After that, they would be in the main storm drains for the industrial district's Front Street. It ran just behind the northeast bank of the river. They would then take a right, and turn left two drainage tunnels later in order to be on the right side of Kitteridge Avenue. It started at Front Street and bisected the industrial district into northwestern and southeastern halves. This close to its origin at the river, it cut between the abandoned Collins cannery to the northwest and the Umbrella Factory Complex's main warehouse district to the southeast. Three blocks or manhole accesses up was a turn to a short section of Kitteridge Street that ran due north, and it was for this point that the group was making. According to their map, there was supposed to be an enlargement or indentation that marked a side room off of the storm drain on the warehouse side of the street. This in turn provided access to the only manhole inside the complex that was directly connected to the Kitteridge street drains. This manhole would serve as both exit point from the Sewers and entrance point to the Factory, as far as the old RPD station survivors were concerned. They talked as they walked – keeping their voices low, and still keeping half-an-eye open for any potential danger or would-be predators. They encountered none, though, just as they had not in the under-river tunnel, and with that their confidence continued to rise. Perhaps Elza was right. Perhaps they were moving into the eye of the storm.

It was Linda's current behavior which had become the biggest surprise of the last leg of the trip through the Sewers. It was as if she had transformed into someone completely different in a manner of a few minutes. She still looked like the old Linda Merton - bedraggled, dirty, and disheveled - when they had forced her to rejoin them not long before, save that Kevin had loaned her his comb and she had managed to get her hair back into something like its normal state. Yet there was a difference. You could see it in the way she now walked, carrying herself alongside and sometimes a bit in front of Kevin and Rita, instead of always trying to skulk to the rear. You could hear it in the lofty, almost condescending tone in which she now talked. You could also sense it in the confident way she now carried herself – the set of her shoulders, the raised jaw and eyes gleaming with a sense of pride which had simply not been there before. There was a simple solution to this apparent puzzle, of course, and Kevin had provided it in his little talk with Linda shortly before. Linda was now the most important member of their group ... or so she thought. It was Linda was going to save them now. Only Linda had the knowledge and skill set necessary to do it. They were going to have to depend on her now, instead of the other way around.

"I guess she thinks she's the queen bitch now," Elza thought to herself, as she listened to Linda talk at Kevin and Rita about the Factory. Talk at was the operative phrase, for Kevin and Rita made no responses save for the occasional nod. The sight made Elza sick to her stomach, what with the way Linda was now practically preening. She smiled to herself with the thought that if Linda were trying to be a peacock, she was still missing all of her feathers. Then another thought came to her, and that comforted her even more. With Linda like this, she wouldn't have time to plot any more schemes against her. If this is what it took to keep Linda from pulling such stunts again, Elza mused, well ... she thought she might be able to live with it. Her train of thought was interrupted by Linda, but not because of the mindless droning with which Elza had been thoroughly bored for the past half-hour or so. What Linda was talking about now made Elza perk up her ears.

"... and it's simply huge, from what I've been told or looked up for myself," Linda was saying. "I never was allowed down there myself, you know. That's where Dr. Birkin's main research was taking place, and with what happened up in Chicago between me and – well, you know. Anyway, it's not just one lab but actually six, all built back during the Cold War under the guise of building an emergency bunker or set of missile silos or something. I don't know – I wasn't around back when work began, and what records I could access were confusing on the cover story. The whole thing is connected to the surface by a series of hidden access tunnels, and there's even a long access tunnel big enough for motorized carts which goes under the river and comes out under the lab downtown where I worked. We had our own private access, you see – although I never used it. And all of that, and who knows what else, is directly under Raccoon City and hardly a soul knows about it. All except Umbrella people, of course."

"Of course," Elza thought to herself, and decided it was high time that she interrupted Linda's act. She was surprised that Kevin and Rita's ears weren't bleeding by now. "Say, Linda," she said, before the woman could speak again, "maybe you can clear up something for me. Some of the guys back in high school used to tell the story of a couple of their friends who were out spelunking one weekend, in the caves north of town, and stumbled across an underground tramway or cable car system or something like that deep inside a shaft they had never been in before. When they tried to get closer, a couple of Umbrella security thugs showed up and promptly dragged their asses out of there, claiming that they had trespassed on company property when they knew perfectly well they hadn't. When they went back the next weekend to check it out again, the bottom of that shaft had been sealed with concrete. A good six feet of it, or so the story goes. How does that fit in with this underground lab business you've been talking about, or does it?"

Before Linda could reply, John spoke. "It's true, Miss Elza. Ever word of it."

Both women looked at John. Linda was the first to speak. "And just how did someone like you gain access to confidential company information like that?" She sounded as irritated as a classroom instructor whose lecture had been rudely interrupted by an impertinent student. To her, it was quite obvious that some of her limelight was being stolen by someone else.

Either John didn't notice Linda's glare or simply ignored it, because he paid her no mind. "I know it's true, 'cuz I knows sum of da guys whose worked on it." He reached up and began scratching the back of his neck as he continued. "Dere's at least three of 'em, as near as I kin figger – all in da deep caves. One runs from under downtown Raccoon to out hear, anudder runs from downtown Raccoon to da Spencer Estate, an' a third connects various stuff below da Estate grounds wid each other – or so dey said."

"Well!" Elza exclaimed. "If we had known that, we could have just found that first underground cable car, rode it here, and saved ourselves a whole lot of trouble."

As Elza finished speaking, she cast a sidewise look at Linda. The Umbrella woman gave Elza a cool look before she resumed speaking. "Miss Walker, those transit systems are restricted access for selected Umbrella personnel only. I don't have clearance for them myself, and it would have been interesting to see how you and the others would have gained it for yourselves. In addition, the topside entrances are as carefully concealed as those of the underground lab complex. I highly doubt you would have been able to find at least one of them."

Elza nodded. "True ... which leads us to a small point that needs resolving. Does everybody remember that first gate in the under-river tunnel, and how it was already open when we came to it?" She looked at Linda and grinned. "Maybe you've got the answer for that riddle too, Miss Merton?"

Linda looked genuinely surprised. "It wasn't me, Miss Walker. It was already open when I came to it, too."

"Then how did it get open?"

Linda sighed, as if she were a parent speaking to a child. "Perhaps someone else left it open, Miss Walker."

"Hey now, there's a thought." Rita interjected. She was seeing all the signs that Linda and Elza might be getting ready to go at it again, and she was going to nip it in the bud right now. "That raises an even bigger question, Elza. Who came here before us?"

It was a question to which they never found the answer.

* * * * *

By the time they made it to the Kitteridge street drains, the conversation had shifted several times. They were now talking about the Magnum – or rather, Kevin's new Magnum, although Linda still insisted on referring to it as her gun.

"I don't mind if Officer Ryman keeps using my Magnum," Linda was saying, as they made the turn and started down the Kitteridge Street drain. "I can't handle it anyway. I found that out the hard way. No, it's best that someone use it who has the physical strength to do so, and I can think of none better than Officer Ryman. It's a shame, though, that I didn't think to secure more ammo when we had the chance. I could have saved us a lot of trouble."

Elza wanted to grab Linda by the collar and scream the truth in her face, but a sidewise glance from Rita warned otherwise. "Let her talk," it said. "We know better." Rita then gave her a it-can't-be-helped smile and went back to acting like she was paying attention to Linda's babbling. Even so, no one said anything after Linda's last words, and they trudged along in silence – save for the splashing of their feet in the occasional puddle of water on the floor. When it almost became unbearable, Elza finally decided to speak up – but carefully, per Rita's implied warning. "Yes, it is a shame we didn't have room to pick up more when we had the chance, and that later events prevented us from going back and getting more."

"Yeah," Kevin grunted. "I would have even considered swimming for it, had it not been all of that cheap stuff. It would have probably all gone bad by the time we could have gotten it out of there."

Linda looked puzzled. "Why is that? I mean, modern bullets aren't like old guns, where the powder was separate. Aren't bullets watertight?"

Kevin looked up at Elza, who was looking back at him. Both were smiling, as was Rita. John had a look which was best described as thoughtful attentiveness, while Linda still seemed confused. "You want to tell her, Elza, or shall I?"

"You'd better," Elza said. "After all, you're the boss. It'll sound better from you."

Kevin nodded. "You may be surprised to learn, Miss Merton, that they're not. Leastways, not all of them. This box of .44 Magnum ammo which Sherry saved for us is branded Tony's Arms. That's about the cheapest brand of ammo you can buy. That also means that the shell casing which holds the powder to fire the bullet is simply crimped around the bottom of the bullet – and it's not a watertight seal. It's just enough to hold the shell to the bullet, and that's all. It doesn't have to be sealed watertight in order to shoot. People buy Tony's Arms brand ammo because it's cheap, which makes it good plinker and target ammo, but it's lousy for long-term storage – especially in a humid place like the Sewers. The late Mr. Norton obviously wasn't very familiar with guns, or he would have bought a military-grade brand, like the Wolfsbane I use with my Kimber. They put on a sealant at the crimp joint so it'll be watertight, per military spec. I could've filled that whole Pump Room with Wolfsbane .45 ACP ammo and flooded it, come back a week later and pumped out all the water, and it would all still be good. This Tony's Arms stuff? Forget it. Just shoot it off as soon as you can, because that's all its good for, and was in fact designed for. That's why, Miss Merton."

Linda regarded the information. "Does that mean the Magnum isn't as good a gun as all of you were making it out to be?"

"Oh, no," Kevin said. "The gun's great. Only the ammo we've got is lousy. It works well enough, but it's not the best." He now pulled the Magnum from his tactical holster, and held it up so that Linda could see the grip as they walked. "See that crest on the grip handle?"

"Well, I'll be," Linda said. "That's a police badge."

"RPD, in fact," Kevin said. He reholstered the gun as he continued talking. "This is a Smith and Wesson Model 629 .44 Magnum pistol. The Model 629 has shorter barrel than the regular Model 29 - that's Dirty Harry's gun - so it'll fit inside a standard police holster. The RPD used to use revolvers until crooks started using clip-fed automatics. That's when they had to switch, too, just like all the other police departments around the nation."

"I'll bet that gun came from that big charity auction the RPD held, right before I joined the force," Rita said. "I seem to recall something about them auctioning off the last of their revolvers as part of that event."

"Or he could have bought it second-hand from someone else who was there, or who had already bought one earlier," Kevin pointed out. "I'll bet he got this gun on the cheap, just like he did his ammo. Sewer supervisors don't make all that much, I'll bet."

"They doan," John said. "Eggsacly how much'n you two make?"

Both Kevin and Rita looked at him. "Not much more," Rita admitted. "Raccoon City's always been misers when it comes to paying its civil servants. You're supposed to make it up on the side with overtime, and hazard pay, and so on." She sighed, and then her face brightened. "Hey guys," she said, with a definite uplift in her voice. "I think we're about there."

Up ahead, the street drain tunnel had suddenly widened to their left into an alcove. There was an open doorway there leading off somewhere. Elza already had her map out and was consulting it. "This looks like the spot, Kevin," she said, as she folded it back up and stowed it away. "Only a few dozen feet more, and we'll be out of these blasted Sewers for good."

"It's about time," Linda said heartily. "I hope they've got clean clothes and a shower up there somewhere."

Kevin chuckled. "So do we all, Miss Merton. Okay, everyone, time to be on your toes again. Weapons ready, eyes sharp, and ears peeled. We don't know what we're going into, so let's play it safe. Better safe than sorry.

The four survivors who had weapons drew them. Kevin, Rita, and Elza all now held their pistols in walking carries – Kevin and Elza with their autopistols, and Rita with her Beretta. John held his own pistol at what could best be described as a lazy civilian's interpretation of ready arms. As for Linda, all she could do was look worried. "I sure could use a gun," she muttered to no one in particular. Everyone pretended not to hear her. Sherry was gently waved behind both Elza and John, as the group made the turn and carefully went through the doorway, single file, looking to see if any threat was about to try to surprise them. It didn't, and they found themselves in a small room just big enough for all of them, with a single ladder leading up to a manhole well overhead.

"I guess this is the part where somebody goes up to the manhole, opens it, something outside yanks them up, we hear a big roar, and then body parts fall back down," Linda said grimly.

"Oh, I wish you hadn't said that," Rita said. "That's the last thing we need to imagine right now." She looked over at Kevin, whose face was set. "You're not thinking – John, go with him and stay under him. Got it?"

Kevin looked at Rita, his trademark wry smile spreading across his face. "Why Rita, I do believe you're worried about me."

"Of course I am!" she said, probably more fast and a bit louder than she intended. "You heard me, John."

"Yes, Miss Rita." John lumbered up behind Kevin even as the policeman walked up to and gripped the lower rungs of the ladder. He looked back at John. "Wait 'till I'm up before you go grabbing, okay?" he said. After thinking a moment, he added, "I'm going to need your 'zombie knocker,' too."

"Sure thing, boss," John said.

Kevin climbed the ladder until he could just reach the manhole cover by fully extending his arms and holding them palms up. John got a good grip on Kevin's ankles as the policeman slowly lifted up the manhole cover until it just cleared the metal rim of the hole itself, then slowly slid it back until it balanced. He then quickly pulled his hands back down. "Now, John," he said. John handed him the short pipe which he used as an impromptu cudgel, then watched as Kevin gripped it in one hand and stuck the far end of it under the lip of the raised manhole cover. Pushing and lifting at the same time, he managed to slide the cover back and off of the manhole. Above was a clear night sky full of stars, with the barest hint of red to the east. Nothing was waiting to pounce on them, and nothing tried to jump over the rim and down the manhole at him. Kevin waited for a few moments, and then handed the short pipe back to John. Pulling his Glock autopistol with his gun hand while using the other to help him climb, he slowly and deliberately ascended until he was halfway out of the manhole. He looked around the area surrounding the manhole, and then whistled.

"What do you see?" asked John, as the others below crowded around the ladder.

"Looks like Elza may have been right," Kevin said. "It's dead up here."

END PART TWO

\------------------------------

INTERLUDE 2

The fact that the ruins of the old RPD building were still smoking and smouldering did not matter to the teams of black-clad, masked, and helmeted paramilitary types literally pouring over the rubble. A large number of them poked and prodded with poles, while others waved sophisticated sensors and other scanning devices about, and still more stood guard in a well-armed double ring around the perimeter of the rubble. Nothing was going to get past them until they let it, and they were not leaving until they found some sign of what they were seeking.

All of this was very interesting to the attractive Oriental woman in the halter-top red dress and matching heels parked on the top floor of a nearby high-rise. From her black tactical harness, which was incongruous with her dress and heels but nonetheless seemed perfectly natural on her, she had produced a high-powered scope – which she was using to spy on the activities of the paramilitaries below. Her position had been chosen with great care and she was as carefully concealed as her surroundings would permit. It would have literally taken a miracle to spot her from below ... and she had made sure that the building itself no longer held any potential threats. The two dead paramilitaries hidden on the first floor, who had been assigned to guard this building against what this woman was doing right now, was ample proof of that.

The woman watched as one of the men wielding a minesweeper-type scanner suddenly reacted, then waved some of his fellows over. More joined very quickly, and then shovels and other digging and prying implements were produced. Soon, the half-burned remains of a large table or desk were extracted from the rubble. In its center was what looked like a small open metal storage cabinet or shelf. It was scorched from the fire and covered in soot and ash – but whatever had once been there was apparently no longer there. Three of the paramilitary types immediately held a conference on the spot, and one held up his hand to his mask as if talking on a headset radio. A minute or so later, he began waving at the others and pointing here and there. The diggers stopped their activities at once, and almost all of the paramilitaries present gathered and then broke up into smaller units. Those who had traded their automatic weapons for shovels now went to retrieve them – while many of the assembled smaller groups, weapons already in hand, scattered in different directions. The three paramilitaries standing by the ruin of the table or desk remained there, while others moved about here and there with apparent but unknown purpose.

The Oriental woman lowered her scope, then closed it and replaced it in her harness pouch. She next produced from it something which looked like a cross between an Apple Newton and an old-style cell phone, and hit a button. A small inset screen promptly came to life, and it filled with the image of a stern-looking middle-aged man in a black suit with black turtleneck shirt and wearing sunglasses, sitting in a control chair in a darkened room.

"Report," the image said. "You have something?"

"Looks like they didn't find it," the woman said. She sounded amused. "It seems that somebody else got here before them."

"Indeed," the image said. The man in the image leaned forward in his chair, steepling his hands in front of him. "Interesting. I would almost pay to see the look on dear Ozwell Spencer's face when he gets the news – as well as finding out just who our mystery thief might be."

"My position here is about to become untenable," the woman replied. "What now?"

The man the image leaned back in his chair, replacing his arms on the armrests and his hands on their inset control panels at their ends. "This was always a side quest anyway, and it has failed. No matter. Your primary mission remains the same, Ada – securing a G-sample. That is your only task now."

"I'm going to stop by the new station on the way," Ada said – for that was her name. "Maybe Ben has something to add."

"Don't waste too much time," the image cautioned. "HUNK's boys are on the move. And while HUNK himself remains missing, do not doubt that he trained them well. They can cause you considerable trouble if they ever get on to you. Wesker, out."

The image vanished. Ada turned off the device, then looked down below at the rubble of the old RPD one last time. "That they will never do," she said ... and with that, she disappeared into the shadows behind her.

\------------------------------

... to be continued ...


End file.
